THE POODLE AND THE PUG

When I was a high school noodle and life was rather smug,
My father kept a Poodle, my mother kept a Pug,
And every Sunday after three, this strange procession you might see,
My dear Papa, Mama and me, the Poodle and the Pug.
The Poodle I could never bear for he was naked here and there
And, partly bare and partly hair was like a warn-out rug.
The Pug, upon the other hand was far too well upholstered and
Somehow the Pug I could not stand, I could not stand the Pug.
Oh dear, how I dislike those dogs! The Pug had features like a frog's
And deep in the profoundest bog could I have put the Pug.
And every Sunday after three, this strange procession you might see,
My dear Papa, Mama and me, the Poodle and the Pug.
The Poodle was alert and gay, he liked to run in front and play
In quite a continental way unlike the pompous Pug.
The Pug was more the Sazon kind, he plodded on a mile behind
And in his movements called to mind and alderman or slug.
And this explains the life I led, for it was I who rather red Pursued the Poodle
far ahead or waited for the Pug. Those dogs have left their mark on me. So
many citizen I see Who, a sort of Poodle seem to be or else a sort of Pug. At
ballets of the Russian kind whole packs of Poodles you will find
With tuffs of hair stuck here and there which one would like to tug.
Which, as for Pugs, if you reflect you know a dozen I expect
Well, Mrs. Bunn at Number One is definitely a Pug.
And you, when you go beddie bye, look in the mirror eye to eye
And put to question, which am I - a Poodle or a Pug?

 

No Title

When God made the earth and sky, the flowers and the trees,
He then made all the animals, the birds and the bees.
When His work was finished, not one was quite the same.
He said, "I'll walk this earth of mine and give you all a name."
And so He traveled land and sea, and everywhere He went,
a little creature followed him until its strength was spent.
When all were named upon the earth and in the sky and sea,
the little creature said, "Dear Lord, there's not one left for me."
The Father smiled and softly said, "I've left you til the end,
I've turned my own name back to front, and call you 'dog,' my friend."

 

*He is Just My Dog*


                  He is my other eyes that can see above the clouds;
                      My other ears that hear above the winds.
                  He is the part of me that can reach out into the sea.
           He has told me a thousand times over that I am his reason for being;
                        By the way he rests against my leg;
                  By the way he thumps his tail at my smallest smile;
                By the way he shows his hurt when I leave without him.
                    When I am wrong, he is delighted to forgive,
                   When I am angry, he clowns to make me smile.
                       When I am happy, he is joy unbounded.
                          When I am a fool, he ignores it.
                            When I succeed, he brags.
            Without him, I am only another man, with him, I am all-powerful.
             He is loyalty itself.  He has taught me the meaning of devotion.
                With him, I know a secret comfort and a private peace.
             He has brought me understanding where before I was ignorant.
                   His head on my knee can heal my human hurts.
                His presence by my side is protection against my fears.
               He has promised to wait for me…whenever…wherever..
                        And I expect I will, as I always have.
                               He is just my dog.
                                  -Gene Hill

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