This poem was composed in a fit of despair while my aptly named cat Buggerlugs was teaching her four babies to hunt. She'd bring in anything that crawled, hopped or slithered, and showed them how to chase their new prey. During this time she developed a peculiar cry that plainly said, "Come and get it kids!", so I knew that she'd just brought something horrible into my house. Again!
Thankfully, as soon as the babies had all left home, this behaviour stopped.

OoooOoooOoooOoooOoooOoooOoooOoooOoooOoooOoooOoooOoooOoooOoooO


Hush little babies, don't you cry,
Mamma's gonna get you a dragonfly,
And if that dragonfly don't play,
Mamma's gonna get you a cockroach today,
And if that cockroach doesn't run,
Mamma's gonna get you a moth for fun.

Every night I do this trick,
And my own Mamma's going off sick.
She said my mother's instinct sucked,
One more roach, and boy! I'm f*cked!