There once was a girl who sat upon a cat. Somehow, someway, the cat snuck herself
underneath the cushion on the couch.
So the girl sat upon the cushion, thereby crushing the cat. The kitten, newly de-clawed, scraped
and scratched for her life. She
probably let out a few “meows,” too.
But they fell upon deaf ears, as the saying goes. “So it goes.”
A few hours later the girl’s mother was fixing the cushions
on the couch, as mothers usually do, and lo and behold, she found the dead
kitten underneath the cushion that her daughter once sat upon. Though
mortified, the mother never told her daughter the truth.
“It’s better that she doesn’t know what she did,” she
convinced herself.
Does everything happen for a reason?
Probably not. But what do I know?