Best Petsdog Poems
The Little Dog ( Scotty )
I’m only a small female
Little legs you see
The other two are huge
Males big pawed and hairy
Great tongues lolling
But they protect me
They are nice to me
I’m only small
The human is a giant !
If I look straight ahead
I can only see the shins
And while the other two are off
Galloping and romping
I am trotting behind
Little legs you see
But the human
He waits for me
I think the human is male
He must be
As I feel so drawn to it
And its kind hands
And kind eyes
He must be male
I am female
I know these things
I love to go out walking
The human he takes us all
All three !
I have to skip over boulders
Which to them are just pebbles
And sometimes all of them
Have to wait for me patiently
Little legs with little paws you see
I love them all
Especially the human
And especially when he feeds me
Even more when he tickles my tummy
Do you know he built a little house for me
Just for me
I curl up on pillows at night
Nice warm and cozy
So because I love him
And even though I am rather small
I growl and bark
When he needs protecting
And I can see him smiling
So I know I am being a good girl
The human has a “ H U G E ” kennel
So big a dog could get lost in
And when he returns from being gone
He always lets us in
But never up those little floors
Which go to the place he uses for sleeping
Never mind
I am content
Like the other two
To curl on the soft fluffy bit of the floor
And wait dozing
Occasionally sniffing about
The place food is kept in
Till the time comes
For us all to go out walking
And then I can barely contain myself
In jumps and circles
While the other two are whimpering and whining
Time for them to go off running, snuffling and playing
While behind I follow
Steadily trotting
Little legs you see
But the human
He waits for me
When I can barely see the sun, I put on my clothes and get out the shot gun.
My bird dog is my shadow all full of excitement and love because he knows he'll soon be
able to run.
We load in the truck and drive to the site where we hunt pheasant with all our might.
My dog is my best friend. He knows me well, as he flushed up a rooster and the first one fell.
When we come home all tired and sore, we know the next day we'll be ready for more.
It doesn't matter how much time we spend, as there's nothing better than hunting with my
best friend.
That is what I call
her, my little Brandy girl,
love you baby, such a good
little dog, my best friend
in the world, my beautiful
little companion of mine
each night of the week
can find you resting so
deep in sleep by
my bed, during the
night your barking
awakes me, such a good
watch dog you are,
I get up, to find nothing there
but air in the wind or a falling
branch, but at times you have
barked at something that I saw.
Each morning I wake and there you are,
sleeping so soundly by my bed.
Feeling so good having you as my dog,
will enjoy these moments as long as I can
my dear Brandy girl.
written 4-24-11
about my dog Brandy a sweet Chow- Border Collie mix.
who i have had since 2004.
Here she comes
Walking down the street
What's she wearing
Looking so neat
Lime green shirt
Really a treat
Black dress pants
The style she tweeks
Pride walking
Through the door
Keeps her stride
Even more
She looks good
She looks fine
Best in the neighborhood
What's that at her feet
A dog on a lease
He looks good
He looks fine
He finest kind
Prancing, dancing
Does many feats
Taunt goes the lease
He's running on those feet
The lease go taunt
Dog snatches
She suffers defeat
She looks daunt
The dog pulls, tugs
The lady lugs
She runs, he looks
Behind
Come on your mine
She looks daunted
She looks haunted
Who is walking who
The lady in lime green
Or the Chihuahua
Who thinks he can
Boss the whole neighborhood
(Saw a woman walking a chihuahua probably weighed 3 lbs. except he was walking her.
Thought of a song from long ago "There she comes walking down the street" don't
remember title or artist but thought I need to give credit here.)
My Pet
They say that a pet resembles its master,
but I don't believe that it's true.
When I walk with my dog,
he always walks faster.
When I eat a sandwich,
my dog eats a shoe.
My dog often scratches his head with his feet,
but, I use my hands, instead.
I tend to roll in bed when I sleep.
My dog rolls in anything dead.
I've never pooped in a clearing, or park;
I've never chewed on a bone;
When a squirrel climbs a tree, I don't stare up and bark -
I'd rather just leave it alone.
But I don't get fed, and watered, and rubbed,
and I don't get treats when I pee.
And I'm not, as quickly, forgiven and loved,
when someone gets angry with me.
They say that a pet is just like its master,
but I haven't seen any proof yet.
Personally, I think that would be a disaster.
Instead, I wish I was more like my pet.
This poem is inspired by and I guess coud be in conjunction With Andrea Dietrich's wonderful
little poem" Dog that Wears a Cone" so her's should be read first if you have not already!
We once had a Lab, black with white socks,
he was so very loveable, but I'm afraid,
dumber than a box of rocks.
For the third time that "houdini dog" got loose,
and for the third time got a bad case of porky quills.
That dog would often slip his noose.
Took him five days to get home from them hills.
The poor dog limped home almost dead,
Vet filled him with meds,
and stuck a cone on his poor little head!
and for two days he went through all Andrea said.
Then I came home and hurried,
Cause my wife called quite worried.
Seems loveable coneheaded Max acted quite sick,
it had been two days since he got into that fix.
And for two days he had not himself relieved!
We pulled off his cone so he was able to sniff,
and he made straightway for some trees,
he sniffed around and his leg he did lift...
and goodness gracious..how he peed!!!
Chocolate brown, with smoldering bronze eyes.
A faithful companion, and a dog in disguise.
Half chocolate lab, and half red pit bull.
Calm as can be when we're having a staring duel.
The only dog I know, who falls asleep standing up.
She's been this way ever since she was a new born pup.
She'll sit in your lap like she weighs a mere five pounds.
Believe me, its just as funny to picture as it sounds.
We treat her like a part of the family, and not at all like a dog.
She's overweight, so good luck getting her to go for that healthy jog.
I wouldn't trade her for all the money in the world!
She'll always be my precious angel, my baby girl.
*Note* Truffles are my FAVORITE candy and we got our puppy right before Valentines day, so
being as she's half "chocolate" lab, eh why not name her "Truffles", so yes I know we are
strange, LOL!!!!
The theme of this story
is a brown beagle puppy
with a blocky head, large ears,
a curved-up tail and white pawns.
I proudly mamed that gorgeous pooch:
Lucky...the hound that loves to smooch!
I was asleep, cuddled up in a warm blanket...
when I hear the bark of a dog, and
as the howl increased, the wind whipped the iced window;
and hurriendly went down stairs,
without putting my slippers on, so curious
to know where that high-pitched bark came from.
When the door slammed open, there surprisingly, I saw
a stranded, shivering beagle stucked in snow:
staring at me with innocent puppy eyes,
and I could tell he was hungry and cold;
he tried to lift his frozen and stiff paws, but he couldn't...
a quiver of sympathy gave me goose-bumps!
I picked him up and brought him in,
and he started to lick my face to thank me,
so affectionate and loving was that expression,
which I reminisce quite often, going back to that winter's evening.
I laid him in a small crate with a thick blanket, and he went to sleep;
how calm and happy was he, lightly snoring and dreaming!
The next day I took him to the nearest Animal Hospital,
and they gave him a warm bath, and how he loved that!
Yes, the beagle was out of danger and he was healthy,
like he was before he got lost and couldn't find his way home,
and since He had no tag on his collar, he couldn't be identified by name;
I wanted to keep this beautiful dog so badly...the playful dog I called Lucky!
Just over four years ago
A question was asked
Do we get a pet
And answer our ask
So we consulted the kids
As they gave us choices
For in our family
We listen to voices
A cat would be nice
But sadly not
As we have asthma in the family
So a cat was not sought
No bird or rabbit or even a fish
Was in the thoughts of our children's wish
One thought, that did spring to mind
A breed of dog of the most beautiful kind
They are small and cuddly
With different colours of coats
But the one we went for
And we forever dote
His name is Digger
Which is his Pedigree name
He is a Golden Cocker Spaniel
From dog show fame
Through good days and bad days
He is always happy and playing
Our most delightful pet
Who treats all days the same
A Dog Named Bear
There once was a dog named “Bear”
He liked to run here and there.
When he went for a walk,
To his mistress he talked. And said,
“Come! Chase that frog over there."
“Bear! Back to my side,” Mistress cried.
Dogs that eat frogs often die!”
She walloped his hide.
He walked home by her side.
And spent the rest of the day by a chair.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
December 23, 2009
I was a child of not more than nine.
Just one toy I wanted so very bad.
Wanted a doggy toy, I towed the line.
I knew if I didn’t get it, I would be sad.
The dog you see would swallow a ball.
Roll up his tongue, into mouth then caught.
A dog with a trick, no feeding, not bad at all,
This doggy would wag his tail, which I sought.
I crawled out of bed, early Christmas morn.
My parents told me, it’s too early you see.
I went back to bed, waited, as I’d sworn.
If I did not listen, nothing would be under tree.
My anticipation was so rampant, for this toy.
When I returned to open, presents at eight,
Tearing paper, checking, for my inner joy.
However, to my surprise, no doggy was my fate.
My sadness was real, my heart crushed today.
Though thankful, for what I had anyway,
We prepared to go to grandma’s house in zest.
Upon arrival, seeing my toy, this day was the best.
Written for
Sponsor Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P.S.
Contest Name "TOYLAND"
Consider the chance meeting of a man and a dog on the street.
The man smiles and smacks his lips – a calming signal to the dog.
The dog, head down, tail at half mast, wonders what this stranger wants.
The man asks if he may pet the dog and the proud parent says sure, but a little hesitant.
He pauses, the dog strains at the leash.
The man squats and smiles and offers the back of this hand below the eyes of the dog.
No threat, no sudden moves, just soft words
and a quick glance at the undercarriage of the dog to determine the correct greeting.
Good boy...nope, Good girl.
The dog knows a dog lover and a possible friend.
The owner stands straight and proud of his four legged child
and the man sees himself in the eyes of the dog
and knows that he, too, would like to be greeted like this
on the street by a stranger, and clicked at, and lips would smack,
and he would be as calm and loved as the beast.
Frogs and Dogs
There once was a dog that liked to eat frogs though it gave him indigestion.
He did not even care when the small children stared, or if they happened to ask a question.
He would jump on frog backs, have a green snack, and never give his confession.
Researchers would say, “Let the dog have his way. It's all part of ‘Natural Selection.”
But pet owners knew, it would make him turn blue, before death's toll said, “Collection!”
Frog-eating dogs will die in the fog if hunting and eating frogs in the bog. Connection!
Eliminate frogs catch tadpoles in their holes and remember to get directions.
For frogs in the bogs, which are eaten by dogs, can cause death. No resurrections!
Since this frog-killing plight might be a tough sight, before killing, seek information!
Whether freezing frogs eggs or chaining your dog, remember death brings insurrections.
Civil rights for dogs, for hogs or for frogs might lead you to a few connections.
Frog-eating dogs that play in the bog or roll over logs just might find death's reflections.
So before pets go down and are buried in the ground do your best to learn preservation.
Don’t kill all the frogs that eat mosquitoes in bogs; it's a chain of life stipulation.
Instead, teach your dog to stay out of the bog. He'll NEVER have frog consternation.
A plan of attack to keep dogs off of frog's backs at times might cause reservations.
Take responsible actions, separate frogs and dog; try using some dogie distractions.
The moral of this story is that dread and despair can be avoided with contemplation.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
December 6, 2009
I notice sometimes when I use the bathroom,
my dog decides to come in;
he'll stare at me and take a whiff,
and there he'll pause and surely sit!
He'll go around the toilet and curl up and lay
and all I could think of is his name,
the type dog he is could be the answer,
of why he likes to be in the bathroom.
Gizmo you odd Shiitzu!
There’s dog poo on the carpet mum
There’s dog poo in the hall
There’s dog poo in the doorway mum
There’s dog poo on the wall
I don’t know how it got there
I haven’t got a clue
I only know its smelly
And it's even on my shoe.