Litter home, or litter home? Cats go here. Cats go here. Cats go here.

My brothers crow in the morning, I guard your roof, night and day. Round and round I'm spinning, the wind blows, I point the way.

You see me upon the ocean high, with white horses I ride. Foundations plunge down to the depths beneath but not to anchor me.

I’m sometimes used as a derogatory term For someone who’s on the small side But I’m not the smallest thing out there And I also remind you, with pride, That I’m the Fruit of the Sea according to some. My heart can be found in my head. I may be small, but I can pack a big punch And to grow I have to shed.

I have five points like a certain shape I live underwater and not the surface Unlike my name I’m related to sand dollars