The chair had the softest cushion in the house.
The cat, having the softest fur, had the greatest right to sit there.
But the dog, whose legs were too long and stomach too wide, always got there
Onto the chair where she licked her
As if she thought the waiting cat wouldn’t mind.
The chair looked very agreeable and the cat
Imagined it would be feel much better than a mat
For her to sit on.
So she washed her fur
And watched her furred
Canine invading chair-getter
The cat then jumped up from the mat
And sat on the dog
Who was very fat and comfortable and warm
And long and pleasingly loglike, perfectly molded
To long luxuriant shape of luxuriating cat
Better in fact
Than the softest cushion in the house
And furrier too.
The moral of this tale
If you're not a mouse
Is that arriving second isn't worse
Than getting there first.