There’s an old Indian legend which says when we humans die,

There is a very long bridge that we must cross to enter heaven.

And at this bridge waits every animal we encounter during our lifetime.

 And these animals, based upon what they know of the deceased person,

Decide which humans may cross this bridge, and which are turned away.

I now think Wily Old Wilbur may have been sent to test me for several days.

ÿ

I’m sure I could have managed very nicely in a tent

But my pampered spouse spoils our pets real good

Since it was the middle of January, and a tad cold

I had decided to rent an old log cabin in the woods

But little did I know that its real owner was about

And I started regretting my decision real, real soon

My four dogs could not warm up to its furry owner

They never got around to liking this very wily raccoon

It seems he knew every nook and cranny in the cabin

And he was a skilled master at sneaking into the place

And every night, when he came looking for some vittles

Began the great Wily Raccoon-Pampered Pooches Chase

Each night, racing around this old log cabin

All five very agitated furry critters would go

And what they would knock over and disrupt

Until morning’s first light, I would never know

Old Junior, who is part Lab and part Coon Hound

Quickly decided to solemnly wail away each night

And my other dogs took up positions at entry points

I never knew whether to cry or to laugh with delight

They were never able to catch wily old Wilbur

He managed to get away with a lot of our food

As they sat in the truck before we left the place

What I did, really put them in a very foul mood

Since wily old Wilbur was able to outfox all of us

I left him a huge bag of dog food by the old outhouse

And I know my very disgusted old dogs were really pissed

All the way home, they sat very sullen, each quiet as a mouse

Now I’m convinced Wilbur will put in a good word for me

If that very intriguing old Indian Legend shown above is true

But now, I’m not too sure about these four pampered pooches

I better treat them real good, before my time on Earth is through

And if you’re wondering why I named him, Wilbur,

That’s a real easy one; my name is Mister Ed;

But I’m mighty glad my wife wasn’t there,

Or right now, I’m sure I would be, Mr. Dead.

And She Still Hasn’t Really Forgiven Me

For The Time I Helped Two Orphaned Coons;

But I Still Truly Miss Those Wily Little Rascals,

They Always Made Me Smile Like a Silly Baboon

But The Boys

Are Now Back In Town;

And Now, She Has to Put Up,

With We Five Silly Old Clowns

©2008, A Still Chuckling, Mr. Ed