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On this sad day, last year at this time,
We lost our sweet dog; could hardly make rhymes,
So missing this guy, with our hearts and our souls,
We acquired Crackerjack, and we're on a new roll. On our toes he does keep us, not letting us down,
Surprises and laughter, we get from this hound.
As I write this down, in this little old poem,
He sits on my head, and thinks it's his home. Should call him Velcro; He's attached to my leg,
Each step that I take, He stands and he begs.
But the worst of the story, 'Tis the shower stall,
Yes, trying to wash up without taking a fall. I hear at the door, a cry and some whines,
And there goes the door, and open it flies.
In marches this cur, inspecting… what's this?
To stand in the waterfall, he thinks it is bliss. He stays and visits, enjoying his dream,
I start thinking; my mind is a gleam.
No more baths on my knees, cause you give me a clue,
From now on it's showers for me and for you. I leave on my nightie, So not to get scratched,
Grabbed the shampoo, and pushed opened the hatch.
Picked up the pooch and together we bathed,
And believe it or not, it's what his heart craved. Clean as a whistle I drop him outside,
Scrubbed him on down with the towel close beside.
Off goes the nightie, it's now my turn too,
Closing the door and my work will ensue. The door slides 3 inches, and a head does appear,
Getting rid of this scoundrel's not working I fear.
Water drops pelting, with eyes looking up,
What the heck is it, with this little old pup? I inform him he is limited, to one shower per week,
What the hell does he think? I'm some kind a freak?
In relating this story to a friend down the block,
She tells me I need a humongous big lock. It's re-incarnation! She says with a laugh.
Who knows who's watching you taking your bath?
Yet to tell you the truth, I really don't care.
But I hope he enjoys, what he's seeing in there, Now my husband says, can I join up with you two?
Good lord, he'd be jealous of Winnie the Pooh.
But I'm glad that the pet, we picked was a dog,
Imagine what could happen, if it were a hog? - Linda Adsitt
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