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Dogs: there's always something...
A silly little poem that popped into my head about dogs.
Mum always says to me,
You never get away scot free,
There’s always something.
With every one.
There’s the one who won’t eat,
and the one who steals pies,
The one with dodgy hips,
and the one with infected eyes,
There’s, the sensitive soul,
And the bullish young male,
The digger of holes
And the follower of trails
And that one chases motorbikes,
And this one plays with wooden spikes
Forages for chicken bones,
And barks whenever you answer the phone....
And all in all we worry when
We have them.
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