I’m a cool and curious fellow with black
Behind my ears and a special knack
Of hearing that can track the slightest sound
Of rustling mouse or insect underground.
I do not mean to boast but I’m awesome
Too, I think. Who else can match my magnum
Leap across two meters high of fence,
My brush with hair so richly red and dense?
Who else could live unseen beneath a shed
Yet clear the city streets of wasted bread?
Who else has shown such skill to keep control
Of rabbits, problem pigeons, rats and vole?
It’s obvious that I’m useful, do my best
And yet some humans claim that I’m a pest.
They’re hunters mostly wanting me for sport
So whip up tales of hate to get me caught.
They say that I will kill their hens and pets
But I don’t mess with cats that hiss with threats.
Of course, I’m partial to a tasty meal
But battery hens today have no appeal.
I much prefer a pizza seized with ease,
A peanut butter sandwich topped with cheese.
It’s true that if a pheasant comes my way,
I seize my chance. I don’t debate, delay.
But mostly I live veggie like on fruit.
So why should hunters trap me, snare and shoot?
I am the farmer’s friend; his fields are free
Of vandal mice and rabbits, thanks to me.
Unlike most humans, I do not pollute.
I travel light on foot when I commute.
I like my fun, it’s true. I’m not a saint.
But I am not the Hun the hunters paint.