An ode to the long-haired miniature Dachshund. I wrote this specially for a competition that required a piece of doggerel about dogs but nothing seemed to come of the contest. There's not a lot I can do with my little poem (no publisher would be interested) but I hope you enjoy it.

At half a dog high and one-and-a-half long,
he sounds as if he’s built all wrong!
Yet kids insist he looks real neat
With his short broad legs and big front feet.

But it’s not just kids who stare agog
At my elegant wee sausage dog

While children think he’s still a pup,
(Though it’s some years since he grew up)
All love his silky coat and ears;
Admire his slinky, feathered rear.

No, it’s not just kids who stop and bend
to fuss my furry, feathered friend.

As, tail flagged high, he strains ahead
(His message is plain: he won’t be led)
Strangers praise his big dark eyes,
And friends his comic welcome cries.

No, it’s not just kids who stop to talk
When my Dachshund takes me for a walk.