My close friends call me Butterscotch,
because I like to drink their scotch.
I sneak a few sips when no one is looking.
With just a tiny bit of booze in me, I really get cooking.
No one can stop me as I tear through the house,
not even Jimmy's intended spouse.
She doesn't like me yet, but she will when I'm done,
because I'm as creamy and dreamy as eating ice cream under the sun.
That's where the "butter" part in my name comes from.
Who doesn't love butter? What toddler doesn't suck his thumb?
I know how to bat my blue eyes in such a way
that I can get anything I want at any time of the day.
My hair is an unusual strawberry blond shade.
I prance around in front of my friends like I'm on parade,
because none of them have hair quite like mine.
I love to show off. I know I'm dazzling and divine.
My daily grooming ritual is rather fussy.
Why should my hair look dull and mussy?
I hold my tail proudly in the air like I'm royalty.
My friends follow me around and give me their loyalty.
Hold on a second. Did I say "tail"?
I bet you think your eyesight has failed.
No, my dear readers. I did indeed say that.
Did you think I was a conceited lush? No, I'm a Persian cat!