A Puppy's Christmas
T'was the night before Christmas
The gifts were all wrapped
When the smell, well...it hit me
Our new puppy had crapped
I knew I could smell it
It was not just a fart
The puppy had dropped one
I awoke with a start
I could hear a slight rustle
As he went to his bed
But, the smell made me nauseous
And it turned my eyes red
I could hear a slight jingle
From the dog tags he wore
It was then that I found it
In the hall, by the door
I had not put on slippers
I had not hit the light
I just hope I could see it
Try as I might
But, as puppy bombs go
this was one for the ages
It had started out loose
And had grown in three stages
My foot found it first
And before I could halt
It was between my toes
And it wasn't his fault
If I'd turned on the light
I'd have seen it, no sweat
But, now, I was hopping
With a foot, brown and wet
I was off to the bathroom
Hopping mad, so to speak
when from out of my bedroom
I heard "What's that reek?"
It was worse than it started
Now, I'd helped it along
It was me, now in trouble
And somehow, that was wrong
Down in the kitchen
I could hear the dog snore
While, I was still hopping
On one foot by the door
My wife, said "go shower"
And clean up the rug
I hopped to the bathroom
And sat down, with a shrug
It was the night before Christmas
I should be out like a log
But, this is my life
Because I own a dog....
Copyright © Roger Turner | Year Posted 2018
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