Tears, Clueless Tears
Our poodle, Mimsey, (still so young!),
is trying to unglue her tongue
which denture cream has firmly stuck
to her upper palate--rotten luck!--
though luck, of course, is just a name
we conjure when no one's to blame.
There, there, Mimsey! Her tongue is sagging.
I call my wife. Is Mimsey gagging?
She is! Our dog is sprawled out flat
and wheezing on our Chinese mat
the way she whizzed in my best shoes.
It's looking grim. "I'd hate to lose
poor Mimsey," I tell my wife, whose eyes
grow moist at the thought of her demise.
Clueless tears for this expiring pup,
who used my shoes for her pissing cup.
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