I’m going to have to bite you.
I hope that isn’t rude.
It’s just that I hate burglers.
Wait! Do you have food?
You broke into my house.
I hope I don’t seem coy.
So, now I have to kill you.
Wait! A squeaky toy?
The intruder has been neutralized.
She’s as dead as day-old fish.
Mom looked at me in horror.
She said, “That was your Aunt Trish.”
Oops.
Editor’s Note: If you think your partner is high-maintenance, just adopt an opinionated dog. Note: all dogs are opinionated.
Daddy just scratched my chin.
This behavior is unacceptable.
He may rub me on my belly,
He may give treats but no vegetable.
Mom tried to cuddle next to me.
She needs to stay in her chair.
I don’t like being crowded.
If I need her, I’ll go over there.
What is wrong with these people?
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.)
I cannot get a snack to eat.
If I move, I’ll lose my seat.
I have a bit of deadly gloom,
Why does a dog need so much room?
What is it with this magic chair?
He knows that I always sit there.
I’m sure that dogs must mean no harm,
Perhaps they find a used seat warm.
At last, I must admit defeat.
I will never have a snack to eat.
Editor’s Note: This is from a non-scientific study, but results are interesting.
Dogs sleep 19 hours a day (or so.)
They’re really not very active at all.
They will show up for all mealtimes,
Or sometimes, just to catch a ball.
So, eighty percent per day asleep,
A vast amount of total time spent,
Yet, when I take a one-hour nap,
That hour will be in the twenty percent.
My Mommy has a house of bricks.
She also has a topiary of sticks.
I didn’t understand her twigs so grim,
Until she gave my lovely hair a trim.
I was a girl beautiful and faultless,
I’m now a guy with pattern baldness.
I have a home upon the range,
Mom made it look like I have mange.
Rocky is a klepto,
He stole a poor rat’s life.
Now we all have lepto,
Which is causing us much strife.
By Katie, the PBGV Hunter
I found a squirrel,
His name was Fred.
l chewed him
On his little head.
“Drop that squirrel!”,
My Mommy cried.
It’s Squirrel Tartare.
I prefer them fried.
Mom grabbed Fred.
She threw him far.
I heard him hit
My Daddy’s car.
Oops.
I will miss Fred.
He took a lickin’.
Now I know
Squirrels taste like chicken.
If you want to have some rice,
Just puke on Mommy’s shoes.
It doesn’t always work,
But what do you have to lose?
Thanks, Ripley!
Her Majesty sits upon her throne.
We cannot let her sit alone.
With all the gurgling I hear,
I’m pretty sure she sits in fear.
Anyone could break in now,
I have to stop them all somehow.
She’s been in here for quite some time.
I will sit here until at least bedtime.
You cannot enter – “No!”, I say.
Everyone must stay away.
I will always remain in place.
To leave her unguarded – a disgrace.
I will stay here through the night and day.
I will never, ever go away.
I will be here at the closing bell.
I just worry about that awful smell.