Poem: Lamentations of the Dog

Oh Dog! Happy Thursday!

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Thursdays are almost as bad as Mondays around here.

Thursdays are usually the toughest day of the week for us. Jen is tired, but still has two more days of work to face, and I’m tired of having to deal with a grumpy Jen.

So I thought I’d try to do something I really like for Thursday blog posts, namely write dog poems!

Here’s this week’s offering. I call it:

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Lamentations of the Dog

You’re absolutely right, I see
counter-surfing’s bad for me,
even though the stuff I’m snagging
makes for mighty yummy snacking!

And, of course, it is so true
that eating poop is bad for you.
I know the smell is most delicious,
but poop is YUCK! and not nutritious.

Sniffing everything in sight,
I must resist with all my might.
Humping pillows on the couch
is just plain wrong! For that, I’ll vouch!

I guess you humans know what’s best.
I acquiesce at your behest.
While by your rules, the world may run,
your silly rules spoil all my fun!

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Humans and their rules- it’s SO unfair!

42 thoughts on “Poem: Lamentations of the Dog

  1. Mom sometimes saying to us: I wish I was yous because you no has rules, worries and all that stuff!

    She clearly no understands what it is like to be Purrime Ministerettes. She just Sec of Writings, Speeches & Movies. We DOES has rules and worries as our rule is free fishies for all and sometimes we has worries about that because in some countries, them eats sharkies and that meaning less sharkies for us to nom!

    XXXX

      1. Well, Rumpy… We has one mom and that enuf. Any idea how much energy she takings?!

        She wants luv because daddie is in bad health. She wants luv because she feeling alone. She wants luv because she wants us.

        We has to reign Planet Purrth, for fishie’s sake!!!

        #mol

  2. Well done Rumpy!!!! I totally agree with everything you say….humans seem determined to spoil all our fun sometimes don’t they?! Well, I have to say that on the whole, my Mom and Dad pretty much let me get away with most stuff I try – otherwise I wouldn’t be “onespoiledcat” right???

    Hugs, Sammy

  3. Oh, they freaked out! They were on the phone for what seemed like forever. My female was crying. My male kept forcing my mouth open to peer inside. They’d feel my throat and my belly, over and over. “Will he be OK? Should I bring him in?” I kept hearing those phrases croaked into the phone. I had counter surfed this delicious thing. It came from a box of Human food, so I knew it was good, but it did taste kind of funny. I guess – from what I picked up listening to their phone conversations – that it was called a desiccant. Apparently it’s made from something called silica gel. Well, I thought we were gonna have to take a ride to that funny smelling man in the white coat, again – I hate that. Turns out we didn’t have to go. I guess silica gel is OK, in small amounts. But I learned something about my Humans that day. You see, they were so concerned because they love me so much. They thought they might lose me, and that thought broke their hearts and made them afraid. There are a plethora of things in the world that you and I will never understand, Rumpy. That’s part of why we keep Humans. They understand all those things. So, sometimes – when it seems they’re being unreasonable – you just have to remember that they may know something we don’t. I love my Humans, and I know now – for sure – that they love me too.

    –Jack

  4. I love your poem. Jen does know what’s best for you. She doesn’t want to go to the vet any more than you do.

  5. I am not a dog Rumpy, but you know, sometimes grownups just spoil the fun. and then again, they make rules so you don’t get hurt having fun. As a biped (to quote Clowie), I don’t always like following rules set by other bipeds with more authority than I have. But I have to say, I get along better when I do follow the rules. I read your poem to my SamCat and now he wants to write poetry. You have inspired him. he thinks your poem is the cat’s pajamas.

  6. Great poem, Rumpy! But you know we sibes live by one rule – no rules for us:)

    Woos – Phantom, Ciara, and Lightning

    Mom adds that is not true – that we do have rules and we are pretty good about obeying them.

  7. What a brilliant poem. The hoomans try to make us follow rules here too. Like don’t eat the rug and don’t sit on the fresh washing. Spoil sports!

    Nacho, Noah, Buddy & Basil
    xxxx

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