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A Dogs Mistake

 He had drifted in among us as a straw drifts with the tide, 
He was just a wand'ring mongrel from the weary world outside; 
He was not aristocratic, being mostly ribs and hair, 
With a hint of spaniel parents and a touch of native bear.
He was very poor and humble and content with what he got, So we fed him bones and biscuits, till he heartened up a lot; Then he growled and grew aggressive, treating orders with disdain, Till at last he bit the butcher, which would argue want of brain.
Now the butcher, noble fellow, was a sport beyond belief, And instead of bringing actions he brought half a shin of beef, Which he handed on to Fido, who received it as a right And removed it to the garden, where he buried it at night.
'Twas the means of his undoing, for my wife, who'd stood his friend, To adopt a slang expression, "went in off the deepest end", For among the pinks and pansies, the gloxinias and the gorse He had made an excavation like a graveyard for a horse.
Then we held a consultation which decided on his fate: 'Twas in anger more than sorrow that we led him to the gate, And we handed him the beef-bone as provision for the day, Then we opened wide the portal and we told him, "On your way.
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Poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things