The Doggone Dog Contest
“Hi, hi, how are ya?” Bowser seemed to say
When Jake came home from work each day
Work went fine, but when Jake stepped inside
He turned from Doc Jekyll to Mr. Hyde
Clean laundry was scattered about the floor
Silk curtains weren’t hanging anymore
The lid on his crock pot had been removed
All over the pot roast Bowser had drooled
Paw prints left scratches on the toilet seat
Holes in his waterbed doused the torn sheet
Jake had lost women because of the stench
Of dirty old dog in the couch entrenched
And hairs that stuck to black, sexy attire
Had proved a sure way to quench gals’ desire
Poor Jake had now reached the end of his rope
Unforgiving, he no longer could cope
The dog had been bored, but that’s no excuse
He’d caused more havoc than a herd of moose
Jake stayed calm, Bowser didn’t hear him grouse
But he was sentenced to life in the dog house
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