A Beagle Christmas
My dog eats tinsel,
It drives me round the bend,
It’s certainly not pleasant,
Coming out the other end.
I’ve heard about farting fairy dust,
But tinsel turds are a joke,
Clearing up after him,
Makes me want to choke.
At least I can find them,
Under the moonlight,
Just like a beacon,
Shining in the night.
There’s gold and silver ones,
Red, green and blue,
Who’s ever heard of,
A dog with tinsel poo?
I’m just glad he sticks to tinsel,
But now I can’t have a tree,
He’d probably think it was his own,
Inside place to pee.
I’ve given up on decorations,
Also, decking the halls,
I just hope he doesn’t attack Santa,
When he comes to call.
So, I’ll give him some turkey,
No sprouts though I’ll do my part,
Tinsel turds are rough enough,
I don’t need to hear him fart.
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