A warning, child, from me to you
That if as a career you choose to pursue, The breeding of dogs (or cats or such) I hope you do not value too much Your goods, your freedom or your time. So I in these few lines in rhyme Will try to deliver a cautionary tale Of a social worker and teacher, one female, one male Who thought there might be a better way To enjoy a life whilst earning pay Starting with pets they already had To which they would gradually start to add, And by a process as old as sin Produce some more, again and again To sell to people throughout the land (Though only the nice ones, you understand) But what are pleasant in ones or twos En masse may start to give you the blues...... DOGS! They slept on the sofas and sat on the chairs Deposited copious amounts of hairs Chased and caught rabbits and rats, The occasional bird, but never the bats And dropped them half eaten on the kitchen floor They chewed the furniture and the old backdoor, And dug up the flower beds and the lawn Left the curtains tattered and torn And barked and barked both night and day Without a thought of what the neighbours would say, Or the people in church when they howled at the bells Infused the house with their doggy smells Overpowering air fresheners and scented candles Ate several pairs of shoes and sandals But always begged for food at the table And drank the soup from the cook's own ladle And then carried the ladle out to the garden It's enough to make your arteries harden! So “Out damn Spots”, why don't we cry? You can probably guess the reason why, In spite of all the mess and their flaws We love them to the end of their fluffy paws
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WE HAVE BEEN AWARDED A 5 STAR LicenCE By RUGBY bOROUGH cOUNCIL nO: db001
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