Murder By Reason of Poetry

You have a big ol’ belly,
And you’re kinda smelly.
You remind me of Mom.

You seem kinda bitchy,
And you’re always itchy.
You remind me of Mom.

You’re a wee bit lazy,
And you’re kinda crazy.
You remind me of Mom.

You’re always nappin’,
And your gums are flappin’.
You remind me of Mom.

You know where this is leading,
I’m lying here bleeding.
Just for singing this song.

(Don’t ever sing silly songs to your dogs. It can get you killed. Apparently.)


Editor’s Note: This was written during a series of puppy health crises in April, earlier this year. I almost deleted it when Flower rallied at that point, but sadly, I knew someday, I would need it. She crossed the bridge on August 13, 2014. 

A Rose had many children.
Four girls and a boy.
But she only had one Flower,
Who was her pride and joy.

Fifteen years later,
Her Flower is feeling old.
It’s finally changing from Winter,
But it’s still a little cold.

The air is filled with pollen,
All the birds begin to sing.
A sad thing to discover,
Sometimes Flowers die in Spring.

Dog Poetry

What if my dog were a poet?
That would explain the rhythmic barks.
The ones that last all day,
The ones that last throughout the dark.

I think he may be a singer,
And he’s in a protest mood.
“Let me out of my crate!”
“Bring me more food!”

Bark, Bark, Bark, Bark.
Woof, Woof, Woof, Woof.
Woof. Woof. Woof. Woof.

Not much rhymes with “woof.”

If my dog were a singer,
I could be very rich.
I just have to translate to English,
And remember he can say “bitch”.

Rocky Relationship

I thought that you were sexy,
Thought we might go to bed.
Then, when I turned around,
You had a Chihuahua on your head.


I still thought that you were pretty,
You’re as pretty as could be.
I wonder if our insurance covers
A Chihuahua-ectomy.

You could have been a pirate,
Your parrot by your side.
Instead, you have a puppy,
Who always likes to hide.

Rocky’s such a cute little doggie.
He’s really cute as heck.
I’m glad he’s a Chihuahua,
Since a Cocker would break your neck.

I hope this isn’t forward,
I hope I don’t sound crass.
Your hair smells like Head & Shoulders,
But your shoulders smell like ass.


Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

All the dogs go out.
One stayed behind.


Some dogs are pointers.
Some are retrievers.
Ripley is a napper.

Mom leads all the dogs out.
Well, the dogs lead Mom out.
Nails on tile clicking.

Dad struggles to awaken.
He’s alone for a moment.
Or is he?


There’s a napper.
He’s still in his crate.
Door’s wide open.

He is not coming out.
Not voluntarily.
Eight AM is much too early.

Ripley looks at Dad.
Ripley is thinking,
“This isn’t the dog you’re looking for.”

Dad starts towards the crate.
“You can go about your business.”
Dad thinks for a minute.

Dad hesitates, confused.
“Move along.”
Dad goes for coffee.

Ripley is a Jedi napper.


We have a Cocker Spaniel.
His name is Murphy.
Murphy is chocolate colored,
With blonde tendencies.

Still, Spaniels are intelligent.
They were bred to retrieve.
Hunters would hunt woodcocks,
Cockers would bring them back.

So, Cockers have good eyes,
The ability to find small items,
And a soft mouth to carry it.

(Murphy actually has bad eyes,
And he can’t find much,
But still.

I don’t have any woodcocks handy.
There aren’t any dead birds in the yard.
Plus, Rocky would get to dead birds first.

So, I thought Murphy could be retrained.
Yet, he refuses to bring me coffee.
Maybe if I get a bird-shaped mug.

My Dog is a Lawyer

My Dog is a Lawyer.
He can split hairs with the finest,
Which may be why his hairs are all over.

“Rocky! Don’t jump on the couch!”
I never shall again.
I was obviously in the wrong.
I apologize from here on the table.

“Rocky! Don’t chew my shoe!”
Your tennis shoes will never again touch my mouth.
My deepest apologies.
Your sandals are still available, true?

“Rocky! Stop eating bugs!”
Ah, I assumed any protein was allowed.
Thank you for clarifying the matter.
Would you like to share this dead snake?

“Rocky! Don’t fight with Murphy!”
My misunderstanding.
My apologies, Murphy, my good chum.
Flower, you must now die.

Working At Home

Tomorrow is “Take Your Dog to Work Day’.
I worked at home today,
So my dogs were already here.

They could come visit me.
Over and over again.
I had multiple breeds snoring all day.

I still managed to get some work done.
Mainly, because they sleep so much.
(They would love conference calls.)
However, I had an interesting thought.

Dogs in an office could cause strange utterances.
Some of these would be actionable, if aimed at people, not dogs.

What if you were writing a report and heard:
“Stop scratching me!”
“Get down!”
“Get off of me!”

and, of course, the big one:

“Rocky! Stop humping her!”

HR would not be amused.

So, before you take your dogs to work,
Discuss it with your co-workers.
Make sure humping will be OK for one day.

Maybe it’s best to just work at home.

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

My dogs sleep a lot.
Sometimes, just for brief periods.
Would that be a cat nap?

I have said before we need to discover
How to harness all the energy stored
In all the napping dogs in the world.

I am trying to decide if I should wake my dog
Who is sleeping on the couch,
To tell him it’s time to go to bed.
It’s like waking a patient to take a sleeping pill.

Sleeping dogs hope you will let them lie.
Then, they can wander the house late at night.
I’ve noticed since my dogs started sleeping in their crates,
I haven’t been missing as many socks.

Not that I’m accusing anyone.
I’m sure it’s a coincidence.


Rocky Blues

Rockford J FosterPuppy

Me nombre es Rocky.
I hope I don’t sound cocky.
I really don’t speak Spanish.
I really just speak Dog.

Please don’t start to panic,
If  Rocky doesn’t sound Hispanic.
A car ran me down last year.
Mom saved me and Dad paid.

Dad said I fought the car like Rocky.
I’m so glad I don’t play hockey.
He would have named me Gordie.
That would  be a terrible Spanish name.

(Mom says I act like Satan, 
But she’s just in one of her moods. )

I don’t quiero Taco Bell,
That’s my third cousin Manuel.
I prefer dog food and shoes.
And pecans. Pecans are tasty.