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They call me Elly Mae 'round here,
For my critters are so many.
I love 'em each and every one,
And couldn't part with any.

You see, Tommy, he's the eldest,
Grumpy through and through.
Course, eighteen years as a cat,
Would make me grumpy, too.

Our dog, Grover, he comes next,
Protective you might say.
No matter how bad his arthuritis,
He's beside you all the way.

King, he's our hunter,
A faithful black and tan.
He'll stay hours on that tree,
And wait for fellow man.

Tacoma rounds the cattle,
Too smart for his own good.
He gives high-five, goes to time-out,
Probably talk if he could.

Kali, the calico kitten,
She sleeps with me each night.
She's my little shadow,
And insists she's always right.

D.T., she has mood swings,
Double Trouble is her name.
A great big mare with high spirits,
Need I more explain?

Rebel is the stud,
With a heart so pure and sweet.
He has that southern hospitality,
An attitude that can't be beat.

Gabriel is the baby,
He is now three months old.
With D.T.'s spunk and Rebels heart,
His sights are untold.

At last, we have Scooby,
The riot of them all.
Bucks from here to Timbuktu,
And thinks he's twelve feet tall.

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