This is the time of year when we think back on what we're thankful for — e.g., our beloved pets. But did you know that our beloved pets are thinking, too? Yup, and writing their thoughts — in verse:
Memories
How good it is to chew a bone,
To grasp its whiteness 'tween my jaws,
To nip a bit of gristle, yea!
To rub its grease upon my paws.
And as I chew, I think of days
When, as a puppy, bright and fair,
My master brought to me a bone.
I buried it. But where? But where?
I Sniff Your Butt
I sniff your butt,
And angels sing!
The tufts of hair
Where tail is hung
Haunt me like
An early spring.
A bit of hope
Clings with the dung.
Shall I Compare Thee to a Fish's Head?
shall i compare thee to a fish's head?
delicate, tempting, still as a crumb
attracting the flies
and me
to your bed
smelling like catfood.
and death.
yum
yum
yum.
Goldfish Prayer
Now I lay me down to sleep.
I pray the Lord my bowl to keep.
If I to top should float anon,
My soul will float up from the john.
Lament of the Four-Pawed Lover
If I could climb a mountain
Or paint a portrait true,
If I could open up a can
Of food, I would, for you.
If I could fight a battle fierce
Or sing a haunting song,
If I could take your collar off,
I would, my love, ere long.
If I could launch a thousand ships
Or fill with gold your purse,
I would! But woe, I'm just a dog,
And so I write this verse.
Kitten Prayer
Food in my bowl,
A sock that I stole,
The mouse in his hole,
All's right with the world.
The Lizard's Tale
Far from the hearth and far from the moors,
Deep in the city, deep in the sewers,
My lover quaffs urine, Coke Zero and Coors,
Flushed, as he was, down the drain.
Once so tiny, from Tampa he hailed,
A souvenir gecko, bright-eyed and green-tailed.
I tried to save him; somehow I failed.
He was flushed, not quite dead, down the drain.
"Wait!" I had called to his master, Young Frank.
"You think he's dead, but he's playing a prank!"
Who listens to lizards? Yanked from his tank,
My love and my lover, flushed down the drain.
Song of the Dog in His Crate
He said, "Hey, Tiger! Catch! Fetch! Jump!"
As I was attempting to doze,
He wanted to wrestle.
I wanted to rest,
So maybe I bit his dumb nose.
Lenore Skenazy is president of Let Grow, founder of Free-Range Kids and author of "Has the World Gone Skenazy?" To learn more about Lenore Skenazy (lskenazy@yahoo.com) and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate webpage at www.creators.com.
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