The Catamount and Coonhound
Somewhere there’s a mountain lion, catamount they call it,
Down in the Appalachians where the last they claim they saw it.
Mountain lion, catamount, puma, or a cougar,
He didn’t care as long as no one called him late for supper.
Never did he miss a meal, good eatin’ was his way,
And he purred with just a whisper when he bowed his head to pray:
“Thank you rabbit, thank you squirrel, thank you Mr. Possum,
Breakfast, lunch, and dinner tasted absolutely awesome!
But really I must thank the One who low’r’d you in the sheet,
And showed that all the animals are really good to eat.
I really, really thank Him when He made the flood to pass,
And let me eat a critter, I got tired of eatin’ grass.
I’m really, really, really thankful for this chance to offer
Praise because the food chain ends with me and not another.”
But down in Appalachia where they call him catamount,
A coonhound caught his trail and set to chase him thereabout.
The catamount was all confused: the hunt belonged to him,
But here’s a crazy hound dog runnin’ fast and movin’ in.
So he ran him through the forest and he ran him through a hollow,
He ran him through the thickest place he thought he couldn’t follow.
But came the coonhound on and on, so tireless and tough;
The catamount was all wore out, and he had had enough.
He crawled into a hole just big enough for him to lay,
But Mr. Coonhound smelled him out, and bowed his head to pray:
“Thank you for the meal and I don’t mean to be a-piggin’,
But any cat will do to eat so I’ll commence to diggin’.”
And so the catamount became a meal himself, you see:
A catamount does ‘mount to cat, for dogs especially.