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The Ultimate Shaggy Dog Story.
Copyright 2007 Tom Wilson.
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While strolling through Central Park last July,
A large shaggy dog attracted my eye.
He capered around my legs joyfully
Convinced he had found a friend in me.
Though I tried to shoo the beast away,
It was clear as I walked he intended to stay.
‘Good dog! Home now!’ Was my command;
Words that the brute didn’t understand.
.
He wore no collar; no owner was nigh;
It was clear I was lumbered. I breathed a sigh.
My apartment became a dreadful mess…
My boisterous friend was a source of distress.
“Rover’s tablecloth” - laid down for his need,
Was an old newspaper; I happened to read
This advertisement in a bold outline:
Five Hundred Dollars for valuable canine.
.
Large English Sheepdog that wandered away
In Central Park on Independence Day.
The finder, returning our shaggy hound
Will be asked no questions if safe and sound,
To apartment three hundred and forty-two,
Serendib Mansions, Fifth Avenue.
‘Walkies!’ I cried. Rover wagged his tail.
Sadly our trip to Fifth Avenue was of no avail.
.
There, pinned on the door of three forty-two
Was a card with a message that made me blue:
“Left for Cape Cod – Back September.” It read,
Sending me home to my flat with a heart like lead.
So we boarded a train the very next day,
Rover and me, for Massachusetts Bay,
Finding that the birds had flown before we got there,
To Florida, in search of sun and sea air.
.
The scent seemed hot but in Florida, to my despair,
They’d already departed for London’s Eaton Square.
Our travels worked wonders for Rover’s physique,
He grew larger and shaggier with every week.
Because Miami to Heathrow involved some delay,
Our quarry, meanwhile, had again “Gone Away!”
After they’d led us such a lively dance,
I tracked them at last to the South of France.
.
An old-fashioned butler answered the bell,
And sniffed at the dog like it had a bad smell.
He half closed the door and shook his head,
‘Our dog’s not as shaggy as THAT!’ He said.
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