I have a house cat

One day my girlfriend tells me
she’d loved to get us a cat.
I’m rather a dog person,
so we went to get us a cat.

They have a plenty of cats
in the local pet shelter.
The cat is totally free,
the sixty bucks’ just for fixing her.

After a long selecting
and many an argument,
one small kitten paws at my finger.
Oh, what a charming moment!

And so it was decided.
My girl is beyond happy.
What we are bringing back home
with us, we are yet to see.

R:

I have a house cat, I like her.
She is surely my best friend.
But ever since I do own her,
my hands and legs are but one wound.

I’ve become her favourite prey.
She’s no longer a docile pet,
but terrorizes me all day.
Looks like I have an error cat.

---

The first couple days with her
everything was quite all right.
She used to sleep in my lap,
in the midst of kitchen take a shite.

That’s nothing unexpected
when the shelter guarantees
that the kitten will get litter trained
in at most a couple weeks.

However, after many months
the litter box’s still empty.
I follow the cat with a shovel
while all the house is dirty.

And when I try to put the
cat into her litter box,
her claws rip flesh off my hands (ouch)
and she pees on my socks.

R.

At least five times every night
I have to open the window
for her to get in, and then
at work I’m so sleepy and slow.

Sometimes she brings us a gift,
a dead mouse she proudly killed.
I’m always stunned to wake up
with my mouth with its torso filled.

Thus we voluntarily
brought home a furry disaster.
It only cost us sixty bucks
and a brand new sofa bolster.

She bites, hisses, and scratches.
She does it all with no strain.
She can look so innocent,
most when she’s clawing at my vein.

R.

She likes to sit in the window
or in open front door.
God knows why mainly in winter
when frost bites to the core.

Then when it’s minus twenty in the house,
we can be at least glad
knowing that at that moment
she’s not draining our blood.

R.

A series of covers of songs.
Original: Pokáč - Mám doma kočku