When you give a dog a pen,
She’ll want to try to write.
She’ll try to place it in her paw;
It’s really quite a sight.
But dogs, they think by chewing,
And my dog chews a lot.
So I can’t help but wonder
What great ideas she’s got.
And I have time aplenty
to ponder what she thinks
When I see the splotches on the rug
And her head begins to sink.
She looks a bit like Eeyore,
Sully, Smurfs, and Genie, too.
Maybe she’d like Avatar,
I wish I had a clue.
As I wash her in the garage,
(wearing rain pants and long boots),
I wonder if she’s thinking of
trying to join the Blue Man Group.
Perhaps the kids watched Netflix,
And her thoughts were rather pious.
But the memory of Arrested Development
made her want to channel Tobias.
But as I scrub the living room rug,
hoping the blue will fade away,
I question her colorblindness,
not to mention her questionable taste.
Pens and pencils must not linger,
While the birthday cards are fine.
Books are mostly left alone,
Though there’s one on which she dined.
And now my writing time is done,
Tomorrow I try again.
Though maybe this time, it’d be wise,
to work inside the den.
