Three little kittens

They lost their mittens

And they began to cry

“Oh Mummy dear, what can we do,

Our mittens we have lost.”

“You careless buggers!” Mother said,

“D’you know what mittens cost?”

“I buy you the best and what do you do?

“Just throw ‘em on the ground.

“Get out there! Scour the streets, you three

“And don’t come back ‘til they’re found!

“They weren’t just ordinary mittens

“They were the best that money can buy

“Three-stripe designer-knitted

“Bloody right you can cry!”

“You’ll be crying in a minute

“When you feel the back of my paw

“Now don’t just stand looking gormless

“Go search, like I told you before.”

So off they went,

Those hapless kits,

They hunted all around;

The streets, the lanes, the alleyways,

Every inch of town,

The pubs and clubs, the tips and skips,

By the stream; along the dyke -

But could they find those mittens?

Could they heck as like?!

But reaching the end of a fruitless day,

Thinking their hopes were sunk,

They looked around at what they’d found,

The rubbish and the junk.

They hadn’t find those mittens

And they cursed their rotten luck,

But soon those kittens cottoned on;

There’s money where’s there’s muck.

And so they stayed up all the night,

Or so I’ve heard reported,

Drafting out a business plan;

By morning they were sorted.

Those three set up in business

(No point in being bitter)

A company they founded

And they called it “Kitty-litter”.

So every night they scoured the streets,

Not looking for their mitts

But with their cat’s-eyes open

For other useful bits.

They gathered in the property

That others had mislaid

And returned it to their owners

Once, of course, they had been paid.

And what those kits could not return

They recycled or re-sold.

It didn’t take them long to find

They’d found their pot of gold.

They soon expanded nationwide;

Employed a thousand moggies

And, in the spirit of equality,

A couple of dozen doggies.

And when they’d reached the very top

They went back home to Mum

To show that pushy pussy cat

Just how far they’d come.

They wore their best designer gloves;

They purred with pride those kittens.

Mum through the cat-flap caterwauled,

“You’ve still not found them mittens!”

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