I promise you I have nothing against cats. I love the furry whatchamacallits, even the ones that come all hoity-toity over me or those that look at me like something the cat has brought in. As to why I am making protestations of love towards felines is that they are up in arms.
“You don’t love us, Lady!” said one of them the other day, their representative, she called herself.
“I do too,” I protested wondering what made her say so.
“Tchah. Liar!” spat the cat.
Oh hey! That’s cute. It rhymed. How about if we sing,
Spat the cat
fat with stewed rat
who killed the gnat on a mat
with a bat but wearing no hat
Okay. I am being facetious. What’s more, the cat wasn’t too fat. I am just angry at her calling me a liar. I do love cats, that’s no lie, believe you, me…
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