Unwelcome hands she rips to shreds

Varvara is a pussy cat,
A stately beast of black and white,
But proud and wild, like girls I know,
Varvara likes to snarl and fight.

No purring, happy mog is she,
He who knows her carefully treads,
And strokes her "only when she asks",
Unwelcome hands she rips to shreds.

All cats, it seems, are not the same,
Most purr and mew, don't inflict pain,
Pianists beware! Avoid the shame!
One stroke - you'll never play again.

Varvara is a pussy cat,
Not too lean and not too fat,
We'll stuff her in a brick-filled sack,
And tie it up and not too slack.

To the nearest river we will go,
And sing and dance before we throw,
Our hissing parcel in the drink,
And, good riddance, watch Varvara sink.

Please note: This poem is not advocating violence towards cats that scratch. I actually quite like them. Even Varvara. It is meant to be humorous. You people -