A note before the verse, in the interest of honesty: this post does not do anything.
There is no shell alias here. No tool we ran, no error we left in, no “you’ll know it worked when.” It is a poem about pets, and the only thing it optimizes is the gap between you and a clean carpet. If you came for a procedure, the back button is right there and we respect your time.
Everyone else: you already know who runs your house. It is the one demanding breakfast at an hour that is technically still last night.
I am a creature beloved by many. Some say I’m cute. Some say I’m smelly. With a wag of the tail and a purr of delight, I rule over humans, day and night.
My feline colleague, eyes too bright, patrols the hallway under the light. The humans serve. We wear the crown. In this kingdom, they can’t bring us down.
We ask for treats; they give us more. They clean our messes off the floor. They shower us with love and care. We are the rulers. This we declare.
But do not be smug, fellow beasts — the staff revolts when underfed at feasts. So flick a whisker, bark once in the night, and command their hearts with all your might.
In a world where cats and dogs hold sway, the humans serve us every day. We are the true monarchs of this land, with a single paw in soft command.
And the closing haiku, because every reign deserves a press release:
Whiskers and fur fly. Humans bow to our command. Cats and dogs reign high.
That’s the whole post. The furry monarch is asleep on the keyboard now, which is the only review that matters.