A cat has many lives,
Nine to be precise.
But are they all spent sleeping?
Or chasing after mice?

The first one is for playing
And for perfecting their purr
Miaowing must be practiced
Along with cleaning fur.

The second’s for exploring,
For facing the great outdoors,
Discovering their inner tiger,
And sharpening their claws.

The third one is for hunting,
Because kittens have to learn.
They have to know what they despise,
And even what they yearn.

But what about the fourth and fifth?
Do the young cats need their rest?
Has all of the previous running around
Made them a little bit stressed?

The sixth one is for sleeping, AGAIN
No prize for guessing why.
Being an expert mouse catcher is hard
Even if you don’t have to try.

For the seventh and eighth they stray,
To escape their boring old life.
Maybe they’re in search for more
Or maybe because of strife?

The eighth one is the best,
For reflection and consent
That they only have one life left,
How will it be spent?

The ninth life is their very last,
Perhaps for peace and quiet?
But some cats do prefer
Their last to be a riot.

Get a tattoo, pierce their ears
Spend what they have saved
Go to parties and nightclubs
For a good old rave

However they choose to spend it,
They make sure it’s a blast
The other lives were practice
The ninth one is their last

So to all the cats out there,
Consider yourselves charmed.
For us humans only get one chance,
To live, and then we’re gone!