I Am the Very Model of a Modern Feline Fancier

(A song parody of "A Modern Major General")

I am the very model of a modern feline fancier,
I live to go to cat shows, both the nearer and the chancier,
I haunt the show halls shamelessly and find the cats superbial,
Just like a kid in a candy store and phrases more proverbial,
I'll search for some new showhall in a state of near-hysteria
For every show that's scheduled in the nearest four-state area;
No casual participant was ever there ahead o' me,
And my inamorata is a Birman with a pedigree.
I'll brave the storms in ponchos and galoshes like the biddies wear
If one Norwegian Forest Cat I met in Kansas City's there,
I'll hobble in on crutches when my pains are in a heel or two
To see a Himalayan when his points are flame, not seal or blue.
I used to love the Persians when the little darlings had a nose,
But sadly, those have now become endangered species, I suppose.
The Tonkinese are yowling and the air is putrifyingly
Unfriendly, but I make the rounds to those I love undyingly.

Oh my, the plushy British Blues, the Scottish Folds, so smitten by
The red Somalis, white Angoras, Silver Persian kitten, (sigh).
I follow fluffy tails to judging rings without an if-you-please;
I'm crooning at the Birmans and I'm cringing at the Siamese;
I marvel at the huge Maine Coons, I sigh at Ragdolls longingly,
While trying to ignore the Orientals ...er... sing-songingly
Though kitty life is mostly naps, and shows are just a pinch of it,
They all get brushed and powdered, fluffed and combed within an inch of it.
Although it isn't radical to be a cat enthusiast,
We tend to be the most opinionated and the choosiest.
Oh yes, the long and short of it at cat shows is the hair of it,
If prejudice is practiced any worse I'm not aware of it.
In short, the way I sigh, you'd think a cat show was romancier,
For I'm the very model of a modern feline fancier!

And then, in matters Felis, if Domesticus the feline is,
It's common knowledge what and whom the object of my beeline is,
For when the show is over, then I rush home to my city house,
To all intents and purposes it functions as a kitty house.
My own, of course, the little dears, reside as a majority;
In matters such as food and comfort, they all take priority.
I trek to pet-supply boutiques both county-wide and city-wide
For premium expensive treats to keep their palates satisfied.
From labels read religiously, more urgently than oxygen,
I know which ones are good for them and which contain ethoxyquin.
The three who let me live with them in our small archipelago,
My babies, are a Birman and a Tabby and a Calico.

And if they have a sniffle or a pain or tummy that's upset,
They get the very finest care and urgent visits to the vet.
Their needs are few, and all that they require I can freely give,
Good food and water, pretty pillows, total worship while they live.
If any steak is in the house for me, oh well, it goes to them,
And from my cat-hair-covered style, you'd think I gave my clothes to them.
But when the midnight hour comes and I go to my single bed,
I'm happy to trade off some man for purring kitties there instead.

In short, in matters ailurophilic, none are cat-enhancier,
For I'm the very model of a modern feline fancier!

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