by Cat Barson, February 23, 2005

Wouldn't you know that someone named Cat would submit a song for my Irish Drinking Songs for Cat Lovers CD. This one is a parody of the traditional Irish song, "Raggle Taggle Gypsy" about some tomcats who catnap... or kidnap, rather, a tabby who doesn't want to go home.

There were three old tomcats
Came through the cat door
They came brave and furry, O!
One yowled high And the other meowed low
And the tabby mewed, "A raggle-taggle tomcats, O!"

Well it was upstairs,
Downstairs the Tabby went
Shredded her collar of leather, O!
And there was a "MROAW" all around the door
"She's away with the raggle-taggle tomcats, O!"

Well it was late that night
When the Persian came in
Yowling for his Tabby, O!
And the servant-mouse, he squeaked to the cat
"She's away with the raggle-taggle tomcats, O!"

Well saddle for me, my plush car seat
I cannot take my kitty-kennel, O!
For I will ride and seek me bride
She’s away with the raggle-taggle tomcats, O!

Well he rode east and he rode west
He took a nap and then scratched his nose
It was when came on an alley in the town
It was where found his Tabby-o.

Oh how could you leave your warm kitty bed
How could ye leave your catnip mouse, O!
How could yeh leave your only tomcat,
For a bunch of raggle-taggle tomcats, O!

Oh what care I for my plush kitty bed,
And here there are real mice, O!
And I’d rather settle down with a tomcat in the town
Than live with you an’ your riches, O!

by James Hazlerig, March 15, 2005

Cedric from the Bedlam Bards submitted this song for my Irish Drinking Songs for Cat Lovers CD about a cat who avoids enlisting in a dog brigade.

I knew an old tomcat named Cuddles McGish,
As we were catnapping down by the food dish,
And dreaming of catnip and fine tuna-fish,
We lay sunning ourselves in the morning.
When there came a Rottweiler called Sergeant McGrowl
With a mangy old mixture of shitzu and chow,
And a little Chihuahua called Yippy O'Howell,
With their muddy loud paws in the morning.

Says he, "My fine fellows, if you'll join our pack,
We'll go tromp through the puddles and leave a big track,
We'll tip over the trash-can and rip up the sack,
And chase the postman in the morning.
For a doggie, he always has a thick bristly coat,
And a colorful collar for to hang 'round your throat,
And if you should wander, of your tags they'll take note,
To bring you safe home in the morning."

But says Cuddles, "I wouldn't be proud of your furs,
For you smell like old garbage and you look like old curs,
And your tails are encrusted with sharp sticker-burrs,
That poke at your skin in the morning.
And your collars are nothing of which to be proud,
For our people correct you when you are too loud,
While they only pet us when we have meowed,
And they feed us first thing in the morning."

But the sargeant he barked, "If I hear one more sound,
We'll bare our big teeth and we'll stomp on the ground,
And chase you all over, both upstairs and down,
So now you young kitties, take warning!"
But Cuddles and me, we whipped out our claws,
And we paid our respect to their noses and jaws,
So all those dumb pooches, they took to their paws,
And ran from us cats in the morning.

And the little Chihuahua, with his high piercing bark,
We jumped on his back and we there left our mark,
And clawed him so fierce, you'd think he met a shark,
As he ran yipping home in the morning.
Well, Cuddles, he might have continued the chase,
But the encounter had put all our fur out of place,
So instead we sat down then, to groom face to face,
And get back to our naps in the morning.

by Marc Gunn, January 25, 2005

Back in college, I created a word called "glaggle." I just liked the sound of it. This poem was inspired by reading a book in bed with my cats playing on top of me, while I remembered my own days of Yore... or is that Your... College, she said. (Don't worry, it's not supposed to make sense.)

Stories.
They permeate our lives.
B.S. mixed with broken hearts.
Everyone has a story to tell.
Some short, some long,
Some how they disappear
For the meaninglessness
Of some insignificant ramblings of
Feline psychosis
We babble, therefore, we are.

Glaggle.
I remember that.
That meaningless word I made up
To give meaning to stupid crap that
I can't describe.
Non-flowing, fluid motion,
Hypocrisies and ironies
Laid down to feed the mind
Something other than ferret dookie
On a cowboy hat with extra hot salsa and chili.
Yum!