Sophie had just espied, upon Nepali guide,

Fixed in up-braided hair, a shiny porte-bonheur

Of maneki-neko a la full art deco,

So, instead of a plea, she pounce-jumped from the tree

Right onto lady’s head, whose face was now burnt red—

In surprise, not of ire, at face hug from fox-fire,

Which is why when she found her clip had fell to ground,

‘Twas not returned to top, but to agent of flop,

Who had made a new friend instead of a ‘the end’. ; )