Wild Buffalo Betty where are you?

There’s a mouse holing up under the fridge,

The catnip has been spilled on the steps,

There’s a line of toys on the trail

That’s backed up to Tombstone.

There’s a chuck wagon short a can of tuna,

Gunfighters are due here at noon,

Wild Buffalo Betty where are you?

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There’s a mouse holing up under the fridge,

The catnip has been spilled on the steps,

There’s a line of toys on the trail

That’s backed up to Tombstone.

There’s a chuck wagon short a can of tuna,

Gunfighters are due here at noon,

Wild Buffalo Betty where are you?

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The tail of Wild Buffalo Betty

Ah’m just a poor kitty, looking for catnip. This is mah story:

Ah were born on the range… the open range, not a cookin’ range. Ah was raised beside cows and horses, broke mah first horse at six weeks and ah’ve ain’t never looked back.

Six months ago, a mean ole gunfighter killed mah pa, so Ah strapped on this here six gun and ah’ve been searchin’ for the outlaw ever since.

Ah’ve had lots ‘o adventures, riding herd with John Wayne, getting into gun fights with James Stewart. Leading a wagon train across country from St. Louis to San Francisco, even laying on top of a stagecoach with my rifle shooting desperadoes who wanted the strong box!

Ah’ll never forget Bullrun either… ah was hanging onto that bull with all mah claws, ah don’t think he liked that.

Now Ah’m no closer to finding that outlaw who killed mah pa, but ah’ve got a standing invitation to join Colonel Cody’s show.

Now if’en ah could just find a bit o’ catnip ah can relax tonight…