Shreddy
There was a dog that loved to chew,
This love of his he'd always do,
He'd chew up shoes and rugs on the floor,
And then after that he'd chew on the door.
The dog chewed on paper until it was shreds,
He chewed on the blankets that covered the beds,
To chew on something he was always ready,
That is why they called him Shreddy!
Finally one day I brought him a bone,
But he decided to chew on the phone,
I told him no! and slapped his heels,
He started to chew on the car wheels.
This dog that I knew finally learned,
By chewing one day some wood that had burned,
It was red hot and he took a big bite,
Poor little Shreddy was a funny sight!
He went round and round and snarled and whined,
Now something to chew he will not find,
There is no reason to call him Shreddy,
To end this poem I am ready!
Copyright © Amy Travesser | Year Posted 2007
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