For tradition I have great respect,
And Sod's Law I'd never suspectBut you can be tricked,
When these two conflict:
Which one can you say is correct?

Now a cat always lands on its feet,
So tradition says.  And I repeat
Toast, when golden brown,
Lands butter side down,
Or Professor's Sod's law will be beat.

I needed to find the truth,
So I took the cat up to the roof -
All fourteen floors,
Though it scratched with its claws
And bit, but I must have the proof.

To its back strapped I one slice of bread,
With butter 'twas liberally spread;
In the interests of science,
Despite his defiance,
To the parapet's edge I did tread.

I tossed the cat over the rail;
It spat, yowled, and gave me one bale-
ful glare as it fell,
It wished me in hell...
But that's not the end of my tail.

A truck passing by in the street,
It's load covered by canvas sheet,
By the moggie was caught,
And it gallantly fought,
To cling to the side with its feet.

So now with my news I've regaled
You, but my schemings all failed.
I've still no evidence
Of which law takes precedence,
And probably soon I'll be jailed.

Tiddy Ogg.

Sod's Law, in case anyone does not know states: if it can go wrong, it will.
This was discovered by Britain's Professor Sod, but, like so many other things, 
the Merkins claim credit for their Dr. Murphy.


 

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Last updated: Mon, 13 Sep 1999.