All posts under Silly Dog

You’re Pulling My Leg – er, Leash!

There are times,
Your sneakers go on,
And I know…

You’re pulling my leash!

There are times,
You grab your keys,
And I think…

You’re pulling my leash!

There are times,
You honk for me,
And I’m sure…

You’re pulling my leash!

There are times,
You talk about walking,
And I can tell…

You’re pulling my leash!

There are times,
You grill up a steak,
And to my chagrin…

You’re pulling my leash!

And then there are times,
You talk of “going out”,
And I wanna shout…

Stop pulling my leash!

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Who Stole My Leash?

Did you steal my leash?

It was there,
Over there,
Just yesterday,
Did you put it away?

Did he steal my leash?

The mailman,
Came by but I,
Wouldn’t let him in,
So, no – it couldn’t be him.

Did she steal my leash?

Was it the girl,
Who cleans house,
And works as she talks?
No – I watched her like a hawk.

Did they steal my leash?

Those friends,
Of yours carrying,
That bottle of wine?
No – I kept them duly in line.

Then, who stole my leash?

I search,
I look for it,
And in my stash I see,
The person who stole my leash? Was me!

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I Double, Double Dog Dare You

I double,
Double dog dare you,
To leave me with,
Your favorite shoe.

I double,
Double dog dare you,
To take me out,
Somewhere new.

I double,
Double dog dare you,
To make your favorite,
Slow-cooked stew.

I double,
Double dog dare you,
To introduce me,
To someone new.

I double,
Double dog dare you,
To turn to me,
When you feel blue.

I double,
Double dog dare you,
To find a dog,
As stuck on you.

I double,
Double dog dare you,
To remember that
I love you, too!

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Squirrel Soup

Sometimes, when I dream,
I dream of squirrel soup.

Sometimes, when you eat,
I pretend it’s squirrel soup.

Sometimes, when I drink,
I think of squirrel soup.

Sometimes, to get to sleep,
I count bowls of squirrel soup.

Sometimes, when I’m hungry,
I crave squirrel soup.

Sometimes, when we’re out,
I can smell squirrel soup.

Sometimes, when you ask what I want,
I answer: “Squirrel soup”.

Sometimes, when I see a squirrel,
I can almost taste squirrel soup.

But, at the end of the day,
I’m happy no squirrels were,
Actually harmed in the making,
Of my imaginary squirrel soup.

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