Poem Hunter
Little Mutt
(04 October 1943 / Germany)

Little Mutt

Little dog went down the street
to the corner where dogs meet
said Hello to Saint Bernard
spotting him was not too hard
he was super-duper size
but had runny, bloodshot eyes.
Said Bernard I work in snow
in the avalanche. I know
where to look for folks in trouble
under snow and other rubble.
Little dog said I stay home
master says I should not roam
cannot play with real shoes
so my task is get the news.
When the birds sing in the morn
I get up and feel new-born.
Run outside through doggie-door
sliding on the concrete floor
grab the paper and head back
get the glasses from the rack
and the coffee from the pot
think I'm finished? I am not
for the misses I make toast
put a slice of possum roast
on the toast then sprinkle cheese
you can see I aim to please.
St. Bernard was quite impressed
said I get my victims dressed
after rubbing them with snow
see, I am a real pro.
Not outdone the little mutt
slowly scratches his small butt
says I have the real hunch
that you do not make their lunch.
I, for one cook meals with style
put the dishes in a pile
start the washer with a load
keep my eyes upon the road
when the master wanders in
I have ready fizz and gin
get his slippers on his feet
click the thermostat on Heat
read his friggin' mastermind
ascertain what he will find
on the satellite TV
well, I must, as you can see
duty calls, adieu my friend
I'm afraid this is the end.

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