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
A warrior amongs the flowers, He bears a thrusting sword. Able and ready to use, To guard his golden hoard.
A blackbird similar to, but much bigger than a crow
It rows quickly with four oars but never comes out from under his own roof. What is it?
Slithery critters with a taste for dirt.
What do you purposefully put lots of in and on your body, but run away from when you encounter it outside?