God created the cat
To be supple and lithe as an acrobat.
It could fit through a gap that was much too narrow
It could leap in the air to catch a sparrow
It could fall from a height and land on its feet
It didn’t need fed – it could catch its own meat
It had night-vision eyes to help hunt its prey
It had razor-sharp claws that folded away
But the cat wouldn’t try out these fancy new tools
It was too busy licking its family jewels.
One small adjustment and God’s work was done.
He went and glued sandpaper onto its tongue.