by Bella
You accuse me of reeking, of rotting, of
stinking,
As though I had done something wrong.
And to my horror, you say with a glower,
"The time between baths is too long."
Unplug the tub and bury your scrub brush,
Sit down, I'll try to explain
The critical nature of odors you think
Are simply too vile to sustain.
YOU rise in the morning a bit of a wreck,
And then to the bathroom retreat,
To apply lotions and perfumes and potions
From your crown to the tips of your feet.
And though time-consuming, and no doubt
quite
costly,
You douse yourself hoping to seize
A suitable mate with appropriate traits,
He or she whom your fragrance might please.
We mutts are no different, our image is
vital,
Our smells give important details.
I carefully cultivate scents to attract
A whole host of available males.
So quit your complaining and buy yourself
noseplugs,
Lysol or Glade by the crate,
I'll cling to my bouquet, no matter what
you say,
The bath simply will have to wait.
from Dog Stories by Jon Weber & Dylan
Schaffer
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Susan Taylor, Panama City FL
Hank, Therapy Rottie
home: sktaylor@panama.gulf.net
work: taylor_susan@ccmail.ncsc.navy.mil
http://www.geocities.com/Heartland/2555
Instant Messenger: LadyRott1 ICQ: 1966220
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