In the dead of summer a fly was resting on a leaf beside a lake. He was a
hot, dry fly who said to no one in particular, "Gosh! If I go down three
inches I will feel the mist from the water and I will be refreshed."

There was a fish in the water thinking, "Gosh! If that fly goes down three
inches I can eat him."

There was a bear on the shore thinking, "Gosh! If that fly goes down three
inches... that fish will jump for the fly... and I will eat him."

It also happened that a hunter was further up the bank of the lake,
preparing to eat a cheese sandwich. "Gosh!" he thought, "If that fly goes
down three inches... and that fish leaps for it... that bear will expose
himself and grab for the fish. I'll shoot the bear and then have a proper
lunch."

You probably think this is enough activity for one bank of a lake, but I
can tell you there was more.

A wee mouse by the hunter's foot was thinking, "Gosh! If that fly goes down
three inches... and that fish jumps for that fly ...and that bear grabs for
that fish... the dumb hunter will shoot the bear and drop his cheese sandwich."

A cat, lurking in the bushes took in this scene and thought, as was
fashionable to do on the banks of this particular lake around lunchtime,
"Gosh... if that fly goes down three inches...and that fish jumps for that
fly... and that bear grabs for that fish ...and that hunter shoots that
bear... and that mouse makes off with the cheese sandwich... then I can
have mouse for lunch."

The poor fly is finally so hot and so dry that he heads down for the
cooling mist of the water... The fish swallows the fly... The bear grabs
the fish.. The hunter shoots the bear... The mouse grabs the cheese
sandwich... The cat jumps for the mouse... The mouse ducks...The cat falls
into the water and drowns.

The moral of the story is....


Whenever a fly goes down three inches... Somewhere there's a pussy in trouble.