Debonair Dog Steals the Show
Debonair Dog sauntered into flower show at quarter to three
We offered her a glass of divinely suited lemon tea.
As she held the cup, we noted her paw’s prominent pinky.
She pronounced the ebony cone flowers a bit too inky
Her hat was the most admirable periwinkle blue,
Her purple suit outstanding, a designer’s ultimate coop.
What breed is she? Someone asked me, possibly Miss McGoo.
Breed all her own, I told her. She’s Miss Debonair Dog to you.
She brought a new touch of elegance to the flower show that day.
Her presence alone, brought in gawkers, who usually gripe to pay.
She walks with a certain air, you know who she is right away.
Springtime has never looked this great. Just saying, okay?
I think she stole the money, my assistant ran over to say.
Who? I asked, not thinking that there would be any way…
That Miss Debonair Dog would think to “do us” that way.
But alas, she was gone, as was all the customer’s hard earned pay.
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