My cat
Has a drug problem.
This is not a metaphor
For some friend or myself
No... My cat has a drug problem.
It all started with the sour milk
He must have gotten it from one of the other cats
Or that damned dog
And from there it was down hill
Before long he was hanging out with a bad crowd
Down at the "Kit Cat Bar"
The all feline dive down on smith street
Then whole gallons of milk started disappearing
Some were found in obscure locations smelling foul
When I confronted him he hissed
"I don’t have a problem"
Bit my nose and scratched the hell out of my face

I tried to bring him to AA
But when you try to explain
That your only there to show support
For your cat and its apparent your serious
They kick you out faster than you can say
"The cat shat in my hat!"
On the way out he stole a carton from the fridge
(That smelled as tho' it had been there since last Christmas)
And was bombed long before we got home
So like a good friend
I scooped him up and carried him the rest of the way
I even held his ears back while he puked
On that nice police officers shoes

After the sour milk
Came the Kat-Nip
And lots of it
Bales and bales of it
He even sold my T.V and stereo
The rehab people didn't believe me either
So he continues out of control
He became scarce after I tried to get him into rehab
I thought he might have left
To get a new start and get his life together
But shortly there after a bat stopped by
And said "The cats in the cradle with the silver spoon"
"And a pretty big lab"
At first I thought the bat was making some kind of Harry Chapin joke
But apparently bats hate Harry Chapin
Yet really like Pat Benatar
But I’m getting off topic

Ok…
So following the bats cryptic little message
I tried to remember where there was a cradle
And there I found him
In the attic
In an old crib
He had a large bail of Kat-Nip
A huge pot boiling
Various house hold cleaners
And all sorts of strange tubes and vials
He had created the Kat-Nip equivalent
Of Coke, Crack and Meth
He called them
Nipcane, Crack Nipcane and Crystal Nip
And there he sat all dazed out
Spoon in one paw lighter in the other

I just don’t know what to do
I've lost control of my own house
TO MY CAT!!!
Strange animals are coming in and out
At all hours
Yowling and playing obscene cat music’s
None of them will use the litter box
They're ruining the carpets
And my shoes
Yeah that’s a nasty surprise in the morning…
My house has become the gang headquarters
For the most vicious feline gang this side of Pet-Co
They call them selves the Tabbies
And they have guns
Which they know how to use
I KNOW… THEY DON'T HAVE THUMBS!
I tried to tell them that
But one of them fired and I ran
I'm not sure if he was trying to get me to leave
Or just missed on account of shooting without thumbs

I've decided the best thing to do
Is abandon ship
And call the Animal control
Yeah I'm that chicken shit
You go face a few hundred
Tweaked out cats with guns!



Hey.... it's ten o-clock do you know where your pets are?