Answer:
It is a cat but not a kitty, You'll never catch on in a city. Its fangs are huge and so its claws, A death machine with paws and jaws. In its own way a royal fellow, Striped with black and clothed in yellow
What has a coat? Hugs you not in sympathy? Whose smile you'd rather not see? Whose stance is a terrible thing to see? Who is it that brave men run away from? Whose fingers are clawed? Whose sleep lasts for months? And who's company we shunt?
What has a horn but does not honk?
Oh how I love my dancing feet! They stay together - oh so neat. And when I want to walk a line, They all stay together and do double time. I count them up, ten times or more, And race on-off, across the floor.
I'm known for being stubborn and saying 'hee-haw.' What am I?
What flies without wings?