Buddy the Flying Dog
A cross between a Great Dane and a German shepherd of course.
Dumped on us a few months ago; Buddy is the size of a small horse.
He has big ears and exotically interesting markings of black and white.
Year and a half old, he chews up everything in and out of his sight.
He has chewed up a mattress of memory foam, and six of my shoes.
Mates of each he has never felt compelled to taste; so I always lose.
He has eaten the leather off some couches, and an antique chair.
He often comes flying at me at ninety degrees – traveling in the air.
Lands on my lap; his big butt hits the button and the chair reclines.
Stuck in a laying position until my husband finally hears my whines.
Buddy has eaten every poison mouse trap in the garage and hall.
Loves chasing rabbits, squirrels, the cat and a yellow tennis ball.
Easier if Sophie, our twelve-year-old cocker spaniel was gone.
She is angry as a heck that this giant is on the loose, no swan.
Dainty in no way, he is a giant puppy who wants to frolic and play.
And Shark the cat, has been missing since Buddy showed up one day.
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