Dinnertime

Katie is a lovely dog
She knows that she is mine.
She only has one tiny fault.
She cannot tell the time.

Katie knows that dinner time
Is every night at seven.
So, she starts her dinner whine
At six-ten or six-eleven.

Sometimes, this will work.
I will feed them early.
Katie learned that dinner time
Arrives some nights prematurely.

Katie knows that dinner time
Is every night at six-fifteen
So, she starts her dinner whine
At five-thirty, six or in-between.

Once the whining has commenced,
She never tends to drop it.
Only puppy food in quantity
Seems to make her stop it.

Katie knows that dinner time
Is sometime after four.
So, she starts her dinner whine
Sometime the day before.

The one part of my dear Kate
That never needs explaining.
She only has two speeds in life,
Sound asleep and loud complaining.

Katie’s Lament

I don’t want to appear bitchy,
I fear I seem to be quite rude.
It’s just that I’m here starving,
And Mom won’t share her food.

Mom is a diabetic,
She’s very careful what she eats,
So, I just help her control portions,
By consuming any vegetables or meats.

(Especially meats.)

She screams that she’s not sharing.
“This food is just for me!”
Hey, calm your britches, lady.
Try some vodka in your tea.

Mom gave me some dog biscuits,
It’s the only snack I’ve had.
I hate to sound ungrateful,
But I can get those things from Dad.

(Cough up the meat, lady.)

I’ll need a wee distraction,
Perhaps a knock upon the door.
Then, I slightly bump the table,
And the pepperoni’s on the floor.

I’ve never seen her face that color.
It’s not like I ate it all.
I just saved you some carbohydrates,
And the rest is down the hall.

(If you can find it.)

I finally filled my belly,
I think I’ll take a nap.
But first, I’m going outside,
So I can take a … walk.

(Mmmm.. Pepperoni.)

Cannoli 

I may have smoked a little weed,
And then, I had that certain need.
A craving, that we all remember well.

My kitchen had lots of stuff I was saving
But nothing there could kill the craving.
All I had was sugar and some cheese.

Pastry sheets were in the freezer,
I pulled them apart with my tweezers.
I mixed up the sugar and the cheese.
(I started giggling.)

I fried the sheets ’til they were brown.
I found a tube to wrap them around.
(It holds my toilet tissue,  so it’s cool.)

I filled the little tubes with the mix,
Of the sugar and the cheese I’d fixed.
I wished I had some chocolate sauce around.

Mmmmm. Chocolate.

Wait a minute! Holy Moley!
Italian little tubes are called “cannoli”.
So, this stupid craving-killer has a name.

(I was really giggling, now.)

It was really tasty good!
I should sell these in my neighborhood!
As long as my neighbors all smoke weed.