The trouble with a pup is that
he errs much larger than a cat.
As if it weren’t enough to err
he lives in populated fur.
He’s just a stomach on four legs
which, when it’s filled, sits up and begs
for more — then leaves it on the floor,
which is a habit I deplore!
He is most difficult to catch
until he’s sitting down to scratch.
He takes your whole bed, lying flat
to make it where the action’s at.
A puppy’s trouble, if you please —
he takes your heart —
by Jerry Day Mason, Westport Island
as published in “Speaking to Strangers” (1986)