A Poem

  • June 23, 2014 10:28 AM PDT
    The Piddling Pooch

    A farmer's dog came into town,
    His Christian name was Rex.
    A noble pedigree had he,
    Unusual was its Text.
    For,as he trotted down the street,
    'Twas beautiful to see
    His work at every corner and
    His work at every tree.
    He watered every gateway too
    And never missed a post,
    For piddling was his specialty,
    And piddling was his boast.
    They city curs looked on amazed
    With deep and jealous rage,
    To see a simple country dog
    The piddler of the age.
    Then all the dogs from everywhere,
    Were summoned by a yell
    To sniff the country stranger o'er,
    And judge him by his smell.
    Some thought that he a king might be,
    Beneath his tail a rose,
    So every city dog drew nigh
    And sniffed it up his nose.
    They smelled him over one by one,
    They smelled him two by two,
    And noble Rex, in high disdain,
    Stood still 'til they were through.
    Then just to show the whole shebang
    He didn't care a damn,
    He trotted to a grocery store
    And piddled on a ham.
    He piddled in a mackerel keg,
    He piddled on the floor,
    And when the grocer kicked him out,
    He piddled through the door.
    Behind him all the city dogs
    Lined up with instinct true,
    To start a piddling carnival
    And see the stranger through.
    They showed him every piddling post
    They had in all the town,
    And started in, with many a wink,
    To pee the stranger down.
    They sent for champion piddlers who
    Were always on the go,
    Who sometimes did a piddling stunt
    Or gave a piddling show.
    They sprung these on him suddenly
    When midway in the town,
    Rex only smiled, and polished off
    The ablest, white and brown.
    For Rex was with them every trick,
    With vigor and with vim,
    A thousand piddlers more or less
    Were all the same to him.
    So he was wetting merrily,
    With hind legs kicking high,
    When most were hoisting legs in bluff,
    And piddling mighty dry.
    Then on and on Rex sought new grounds,
    By piles of scrap and rust,
    'Til every city dog went dry
    And only piddled dust.
    But ever on went noble Rex
    As wet as any rill,
    And all the champion city pups
    Were peed to a standstill.
    Then Rex did freehand piddling,
    With fancy flirts and flings,
    Like double drip and gimlet twist,
    And all that sort of thing.
    And all the time this country dog
    Did never wink nor grin,
    But piddled blithely out of town
    As he came piddling in.
    Envoi:
    The city dogs a convention held,
    To ask, "what did defeat us?"
    But no one ever put them wise
    That Rex had diabetes.
  • June 23, 2014 12:13 PM PDT
    HARDY HAR HAR.

    Jon
    • 611 posts
    June 24, 2014 6:37 AM PDT
     Now THAT...
    was funny.
    • 3006 posts
    June 25, 2014 12:05 PM PDT
    LOLgood one!!!