A basket of fresh fruits
The bowl filled with sweets
I peek toward the middle
And find some fresh treats

One black paw behind me
Another in front
When nobody’s looking
I start my new stunt

My long tail is shaking
Through green shorts brand new
I gaze through matching eyes
To learn others flew

Dark brown hair brushed forward
Front fur coat displayed
Witnesses have all gone
As citrus scents swayed

I rush to the clean wood
And nab me an orange
My senses are tingling
...But what rhymes with orange?

The sharp peel is pulled back
As saliva falls
Scents tingle my nostrils
While my fangs make calls

Some acid hits my mask
And I start to dook
I clean off the black fur
Right after that spook

The orange in my hands now
Bright peels on the ground
No seeds to be spotted
On this fruit so round

My black claws pushed in it
I charge forth my face
A bite is then taken
Without any grace

...Fresh oranges are so tasty, and juicy, and the rest are mine now...