O, furry friend with aerial ears
Short in memory, but long in years
You hop, you stretch, you yawn, you drink
But as I can guess, you do not think
What passes through your fuzzy head?
You eat, you run, you go to bed
What lessons do you possibly affect
To save your sliding intellect?
The scales to measure your IQ are speculative
Running from zero into the negative
For although thou art no mental brute
You make it up by being cute
Not much different than some people, I fear
Like 50 Cent, or Britney Spears
For though they do more than eat and drink
It’s still unproven that they think