There’s a little kitty,
He lives in the barn,
He likes to play with me,
He prefers me over yarn.

Black in appearance,
With little white paws,
He would chase after birds,
Who made one too many caws.

Once in a while,
He’d get vivacious,
And scratch me on the arm,
It would really test my patience.

Then I’d chase him away,
And tell him goodbye,
And I couldn’t get him to leave,
No matter how I’d try.

He stayed with me the whole day,
Followed me around,
The little kitty,
A friend I had found.