I run a busy restaurant;
I'm a busy kid.
My kitchen is a tackroom,
my employees? Well, I'm rid.
My customers don't pay much,
or show much gratitude;
guess they're too busy eating,
scarfin' all their food.
It's made up of veggies,
beets and oats to be exact.
My charges are mighty friendly;
They're four-legged - that's a fact.
They include three runners,
two canines and a goat.
They devour all their food,
to every last kernel, scrap and oat.
They're excited when they're done,
all finished and full.
So they want to get let out -
at their locks and chains they pull.
But usually they are nice,
through the night and day;
they treat me with respect;
They're supposed to, anyway...
So quite a group these six make,
I know them equally,
and through it all I love them;
or they'd not be here with me.