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The Tale of the Three Wise Cats #17
In a land where the sand was golden and wide,
Three wise cats took a moonlit ride.
Not on camels, oh no, that’s absurd—
But on sleepy donkeys who barely stirred.
Sir Whiskers, the first, had a gift so neat:
A pouch of catnip, a fragrant treat.
“For the holy child, this will bring delight;
A little catnap on a silent night.”
Next came Paws, with a shiny toy,
A ball that jingled to spread some joy.
“A royal kitten will surely play,
With this fine distraction on Christmas Day.”
Last was Boots, with his head held high,
Carrying tuna—fresh, not dry.
“A feast for the babe, a dish divine,
Because even kings need to dine.”
Through deserts they traveled, tails held true,
Guided by a star in the midnight blue.
Their donkeys brayed, their whiskers froze,
But onward they went with their noble prose.
They arrived at the stable, a humble scene,
And purred as they gazed at the newborn king.
The gifts were laid, the meows were sweet,
The Christ child laughed at their furry feet.
So remember the night, so long ago,
When three wise cats stole the show.
With gifts in tow and a purring refrain,
They proved Christmas magic is never in vain.