There once was a sedentary sheep,
Who couldn’t be bothered to bleat,
Put in a field with a cow,
She managed the mooing somehow,
But the sound of it put her to sleep!

A trip to the hospital, Friday,
For a problem that won’t go away,
They’re supposed to cure you,
But you come back with the flu,
Or something far worse from your stay!

In the world of the dog versus cat,
It’s likely to head for a really good spat,*
All you see is teeth, claws and eyes,
And a look of astonished surprise,
And the cat always wins, that’s a fact!

*a fight of epic proportions

You’ve written a beautiful missive,
About a proposal of marriage,
And then, how absurd, A-C changes a word,
And boy, does it do some serious damage!

Oh, I’m singing the auto-correct blues!
You won’t get the word that you choose!
Check every word, or some slur will be inferred,
Examine, dissect, yes peruse!

You’ve written a note to your mother,
Telling her how much you miss her,
Then autocorrect uses its ” intellect”,
And manages to really ‘diss’* her!

Have you heard of the autocorrect blues?
They are sure to blow your every fuse!
It injects a word that gives your loved one the bird**,
When you set out to seduce, yes, to schmooze!

You’ve written a heartfelt message,
Bearing your very soul,
Then auto-correct runs rough- shod and unchecked,
And scores a horrendous own-goal !

Oh, I’m singing the auto -correct blues,
Designed to offend and abuse,
Don’t take my word, go see what’s occurred,
And the ghastly fall-out that accrues!

Now I wouldn’t mind if auto-correct showed some sense,
When it thought to so kindly correct my letter,
But most of the time it replaces a word with one that is dense,
Often meaningless, but certainly not better!

Oh, I’m singing the auto-correct blues,
That system designed to confuse,
It is bad, it is sad, and at best, it is mad,
And it creates its own set of taboos!

* diss = speak disrespectfully to or criticise
** give someone the bird = to jeer at someone

A lady of very sound mind
Simply could not decide which kind
Of pet would be nice
A cat-chasing dog or a cat to chase mice,
So she bought both, as a double blind!

The third of the limericks about cats and dogs that was suggested as the subject of a limerick.

My mate acquired a dog as a pet,
Which vanished the day after we met,
He searched high and low,
From Bridgend to Dunmow*,
Then found he’d been handed in at the vet!

* Bridgend, a town in South Wales, Great Dunmow, known as Dunmow, a town in Essex, in the east of England, a distance of 216.8 miles.

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 !
**** mistake

There once was a lady called Pat,
Who desperately longed for a cat.
She went to a shelter ,
To find a real belter**,
Chose a lion, who eat her – that’s that!

* the second of my limericks about cats and dogs !
** belter = a really perfect example

Today it is raining cats and dogs,**
It’s digital rain, not analogue.
It’s starting to freeze,
And so, if you please,
It’s becoming a freezing fog!

*A Google friend suggested I write a limerick about cats and dogs! I don’t think this is quite what he was expecting!
** raining cats and dogs = an English expression meaning to rain so heavily you can barely see!

I was asked to write a limerick..so here you are!

There was a young girl from the sticks,*
Who’d a penchant for black and white flicks,**
She watched every one,
That she thought good fun,
But Chaplin was her pick of the picks!

* sticks = a slang UK term for the country

** flicks = a slang UK term for the movies