Answer:
I have eight to spare and am covered with hair.
Stealthy as a shadow in the dead of night, cunning but affectionate if given a bite. Never owned but often loved. At my sport considered cruel, but that's because you never know me at all.
He's big, old and fluffy, And looking rather scruffy. He always needs a shave. It's best to just avoid him, And leave him in his cave
Known as a great deceiver, It is evil's incarnation, Once used for veneration, The root of all procreation. All you can do is shiver, When it begins to slither.
Who is it that rows quickly with four oars but never comes out under his own roof?
What is always coming but never arrives?