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When I was a little girl of five,
A caterpiller I kept alive.
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Then when I reached the age of six,
A home for my friend I tried to fix.
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When I arrived at the age of seven,
My caterpiller went to heaven.
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I had to wait till I was eight,
To find a spider on the gate.
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Then I found when I was nine,
He needed food on which to dine.
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And so I come to the age of ten,
With nothing left in my little pen.
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But I think I’ll wait a little longer,
And find a pet that’s a little stronger.
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Or, maybe I should learn to be’
A better friend to my pets, you see.