I once had a dog called Macgregor,
A very engaging wee beggar,
He was hairy and small,
Yet thought himself tall,
A buccaneer of a dog, a bootlegger!
Each day I would pen him in,
Somewhere where he could drink and swim , **
Drive to work in my car,
A journey quite far ,
And get back at 7 to give him his dins.
One day when I returned,
It seemed all my bridges had burned,
No sign of my pet,
Which put me in a sweat,
I just didn’t know where to turn!,
I searched everywhere for my dog
In burrows, at friends, under logs**
I looked high and low,
And then , well hello,
My friend said “ring the police to dialogue”***
So I called the police and just prayed,
And asked if they’d seen a Jack Russell that day,
They said “thank The Lord!
It’s our real reward,
Oh please come and take him away!”
So down to the station I went,
And soon it was self evident,
He’d been driving them mad,
By being rather bad,
And woofing all day, to their torment!
He waited till I drove off and then used common sense,
And put up with a charge from the electric fence,
He’d set off up the road,
And enter every abode,
That had cat flaps and food (in his defence!)
When the police put him in a dog pen,
He would scoot through the bars and then,
Lead them a stern chase,
Before he was caught and replaced,
But in a person cell, not a dog one again!
Because he was so very small,
He couldn’t see out of the man pen at all,
So he’d bounce and he’d bounce
And each time, he would woof or ‘pronounce’,
Until he just made their flesh crawl.
He got a police record from that little bish,****
And a taste for the cat-oriented dish,
To his real street cred,
He was watered and fed,
And it explained why his breath always smelled of fish!
*we lived in a mill, with a river running through our garden and he used to swim in it every day
**he regularly dug under fallen ones!
*** sorry, terrible rhyme , but I think you’ll forgive me !