Every dog that’s called us home

Has had a quirk or two

Wibur would steal loaves of bread

Bosco’d fetch for you

But our wooly little bully here

Has come up with something new

And though you won’t believe it

I swear that it is true

It’s sort of like an awkward trick

That paints me as a rube

If I owned a video recorder

I would post it on U-tube

Almost every morning

While Eileen takes her shower

I lie in bed and contemplate

For about a half an hour

And while my mind is drifting

The pressure starts to grow

And I begin to off-gas

Starting out really slow

With many years of practice

I can squeeze out quite a tune

A calibrated O-ring

Is mounted on my moon

About the time I hit an “F”

Or maybe it’s high “C”

That silly mutt jumps on the bed

And wants a word with me

Maybe she’s a critic

Or the music hurts her ears

But every time she does it

I start laughing till there's tears

I never would have figured

With dogs I have a way

To communicate non-verbally

I’m a dog whisperer today

Copyright 2009  Patrick A. Granfors