I and Pangur Bán, my cat,
‘Tis a like task we are at;
Hunting mice is his delight,
Hunting words I sit all night.

Better far than praise of men
Tis to sit with book and pen;
Pangur bears me no ill will,
He too plies his simple skill.

via MeFi, an excerpt from of a 9th century poem with charming rhyme by an anonymous Irish monk. The above translation is by Robin Flower (links to the complete poem)