Foggy Noggin
Dozer is a friend of mine; he’s got a silly face.
The furrows that line that bully head, have distinctive style and grace.
We have to get the Critter Cream, and freshen every gap,
Otherwise, the furrows fill, re-sem-bl-ing a map.
His expressive face is square, he seems to smile a lot,
And every time he takes a walk, it’s “X” marks every spot.
He prances here, he high-steps there, he scurries everywhere,
He searches for the perfect place, and executes with flair.
When Lito takes him home with him, the Mutt Hut’s where he stays,
Not the one in Ukiah, the one where Lito plays.
He drinks Coor Light, and does the couch, and smokes those nasty ciggies,
But everyone who knows him well, knows that it’s not a biggee.
I walk the Doze upon a leash, he dances like Mikhail,
But then along come Clancy Dawg, another with no tail.
Just how on Earth I could end up, with tailless hound doggies,
Baffles me forevermore, and leaves my noggin foggy.
Just now he dozes with a snore, beside me on the floor,
As though he is a derelict, and lazy to the core.
But Dozer is a lively guy, he just like to indulge,
in lots of sleep because he knows, his belly does not bulge.
His favorite thing in all the world, is when I turtle him,
Because it means I spin him over, and scratch him at his whim.
So when I give his chest a rub and proceed to his belly,
His feet begin to dance and wave, and more resemble jelly.
He likes to scarf, I say, “Oh Boy!” He munches down his breakfast.
And when he’s done; it’s time to run, his leash draped like a necklace.
Up to the top we go a plenty, his tootsie body prancing
As though he were a ballet star, and walks were made for dancing.
And when I nap, no matter when, and take my headphones with me,
He comes along without a sound, he’d never think to dis me.
Of course there is the fact of barking, and why he has to do it,
But with my phones and Ke$ha on, all I say is, “Screw it!”
So that’s the story of the Doze, he is a goofy fellow;
And though he likes to raise a fuss, he really is quite mellow.
We’re trying to teach him to sit and stay, with four feet on the ground,
So that when people pay a call, he does not tend to bound.
Now he sleeps I hear him snore, he raises quite a racket;
There are times Ann moans to me, “I’m not sure I can hack it.”
But when it all is said and done, and we just sit there staring,
We both agree no matter what, we never will stop caring.
I wish I could answer in rhyme but don't' have that much creativity in me tonight. I don't know how you can love a tail-less dog - how do you know he's loving back? JK! JK! JK!
ReplyDeleteI love my Ellie Belly and I don't know why either. Who cares?