Baby Bonito

Galloping gallantly,
Little Bonito.
Striding through the garden,
Like a stallion,
With a stampede of fluff,
Waiting to attack the unsuspecting dandelion.
Little Bonito.
Now he's a tiger.
Picking his way through the long grass,
Leaping over rocks,
Dashing through bushes.
This is a tiger that fits in my arms.
Because he's still a baby,
Baby Bonito.