A border collie named McSpry
Could herd the wind, or clouds, or sky.
He’d round up socks, he’d round up chairs—
He even tried to herd the stairs.
But living with him, sleek and pat,
Was Whiskerstein, a regal cat
Who’d lounge atop the highest shelf
And supervise life for herself.
McSpry would bark, “Come join the team!
We’ll chase the ball! We’ll chase the stream!”
But Whiskerstein just flicked her tail—
“A life of work? I must decline, dear male.”
So Collie’d herd her velvet feet,
While Cat would nap to dodge defeat,
And every day their antics proved
That neither one would ever move.
But sometimes, when the moon was high,
And no one watched with judging eye,
That cat would almost chase a toy…
Then stop.
“Ahem. Control, my boy.”
So there they live—the oddest pair:
One herds the world, one guards the chair.
A furry duo, mismatched, true—
Yet best of friends (though neither knew).

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