Most dogs are great, so tame and so quiet,
But even the best are occasionally compelled
To throw back their heads
And a loud howl expel.
This tale is one such night as you’ll see,
In the house of Farmer McFee.
Looking out at the stars, the farmer was glad.
The night of new moon meant peace for the night.
Had he but known that was not true,
Perhaps he would have left on a light.
But he did not, and as he lay down his head
Trigger lay down right next to the bed.
The farmer gave Trigger a pat
Then reached for his pills,
A cold he had fought for two weeks straight
He hoped with some sleep to cure all the ills
Of residual flu. A long restful night ought to do.
Beware McFee! Sleeping too sound can really hurt you.
The sound of their snores rattled the halls,
Waking the cat who extended her paws.
Time for some fun to pass through the night,
In a mouse-free house she’d need a new cause.
Distracted from thinking by snores all around
The cat slunk into the room, crouching low to the ground.
First she turned McFee’s head and closed his mouth,
He flipped a bit over and settled back down.
No more did he snore, his position was better,
Just as she planned, as she turned her attention round.
Trigger was next, but it was much crueler,
Poor boy, he’d never think of such a way to fool her.
“Pst Trigger.” Kitty whispered so close to his ear,
Trigger’s eyes barely made it open.
“Trigger I think McFee is quite dead.”
Now Trigger had never dealt with the death of men,
It wasn’t something he thought he would see,
So first he laughed softly then shifted his knees.
“Seriously! Trigger, don’t go back to sleep.
Listen!” Trigger perked up his ears and found not a sound,
Craning his neck he saw the farmer’s back,
An arm dropping down almost touching the ground.
Then he bolted up and felt a terrible fright,
Oh what a terrible, horrible, nightmarish night!
Trigger pushed his nose against McFee’s palm,
Then whimpered and whined hoping Kitty was wrong.
The farmer moved not, he made not a peep,
And that is when Trigger howled his song.
He went to the window, his soul full of tears,
Thinking of life, all the new pains and new fears.
He howled so loud it shook the panes of glass.
Kitty darted out her fur spiked, her back arched.
Trigger’s sorrow was bare into the darkest of nights,
Jilted awake, McFee’s thoughts quickly marched,
Taking in things that might cause such alarm,
The reaching out for a bat with his arm.
Finally he saw Trigger standing and moaning,
And there, no obvious issue,
McFee was now angry, and shook with sudden awareness.
He started to scream and reached for a tissue.
“Bad dog!” He cried out in the dead of the night.
“Bad dog!” He cried as he turned on the light.
Poor Trigger was taken to the room at the back,
To sleep on the floor without his sweet bed.
Sooner after he was joined by Kitty,
And not by her choice. As he dropped her in, McFee said,
“You two will not wake me again ‘cause I need my sleep.”
Trigger glared at her, Kitty knew she was in trouble, and deep.
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