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Ode to a Shedding Cat

I think that I shall never see
A cat that sheds as much as thee.

Thy fur that sticks is all around
On chairs, on mats in little mounds.

I sweep the floor,
You shed some more.

I wash the rug
And you just shrug.

You should give thanks I tolerate that
Or you would be a crew-cut cat.

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