Tag: NaPoWriMo

Mom’s Lament

Well, at least she’s not bitter.

Nobody loves me,
Everybody hates me,
Guess I’ll go eat worms.

My dogs don’t love me,
Unless I’m bearing treats.
I try to hug and kiss them,
Guess I’ll admit defeats.

I let them out to play.
I feed them two squares a day.
They pee on the floor, it’s OK.
Their hair makes me sneeze more than hay.

Am I bitter?
Not even a bit.
So, they sit by Dad.
I won’t have a snit.

They really love me.
I’m sure of that.
But if I find they don’t,
I’m getting me a cat.

Murphy’s Lament

Murphy is a dog of few words.

Mom, why are you bleeping?
Can’t you see I’m sleeping?

I don’t need to pee outdoors.
I already did, over on the floor.

Is it time for me to eat?
If not, I’m going back to my seat.

I don’t like the lady with the scoop.
She harvests all the tasty poop.

You’re putting drops in my eyes?
Where is my tasty cookie prize?

Katie’s Further Lament

Let sleeping dogs lie.

Mommy woke me from my nap.
Lordy, what a load of crap.

I was deep inside a dream,
With a bowl of squirrel ice cream.

Then, I found myself awake.
She gave my little tail a shake.

I wish I had a can of Mace,
Or the energy to chew her face.

Instead, I’ll go outside and pee.
As I think, “Oh, woe is me.”

Rocky said, “Oh, woe is I.”
He’s such an educated guy.

Now, I lay me down to sleep.
My Mommy is a little creep.

I will chase her to New Delhi,
If she blows a bubble on my belly.

Four-Legged Security Team

My dogs make me feel secure. Mostly.

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.

Rules

Dogs have rules of engagement

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?

Katie’s Lament

Our dogs are starving. Apparently, two large meals a day plus snacks is not enough.

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.)