Big ginger cats are oft seen to be brave,
But Ricky Ticky Tavy is always afraid.
In the back yard, bright orange cats are the kings,
While Ricky Ticky is king of no things.
They like their orb in the sky reign supreme;
He at the subtlest startle will scream.
Sure in the games silly kittens call sports,
Ricky is deft as his outdoor cohorts:
He can spring on the fridge, batter a bear,
Destroy a pair of clean, white underwear.
With simply divine, cat physicality,
Just like those bad cats lurking in alleys,
He has long legs and a still longer tail,
A bright coat of hair and sharp kitten nails,
But where a Tom Cat is firm with resolve,
Ricky has internal puzzles to solve.
Circling your leg til you notice he’s there,
Just when you look, this cat is nowhere.
He wants to be pet, but not to be touched.
Every attempt at a moment is botched.
Twitching his leg like he wants to play-fight,
If you fight back, he’ll surely take flight.
Many have tried to term his behavior.
(Some say he suffers extreme paranoia.)
Labels and stories and jokes have been made.
(Others have claimed he’s the first catholic cat.)
But can a cat believe in a relic?
Is there such thing as cat schizophrenic?
Well, two names he’ll have, long as he’s weary:
Ricky Ticky Tavy, alias Scaredy.