(And certainly proof that I attended the Berenstain Bear school of Poetic Composition)
as posted for Phantom Scribbler’s Wednesday Whining
On Thursday night, The Princess yelled,
“I was washing my hair and my hand held
A thing with little moving legs.”
Oh no! I said, those things lay eggs!
And yes, indeed, a combing proved
That on her scalp those lice had moved
They’d laid their eggs and done their best
To make The Princess’ hair their nest
But not to be outdone by bugs
I gave my daughter careful hugs
Then got the TermiNITor out
Now it’s the lice’s turn to shout!
As we stood combing by the mirror,
I heard a sound and to my horror,
Turned to see a pile of barf
Thrown up by someone who says, “ARF!”
(or “OAF!” depending on his mood)
The first pile really was all food
I thanked the dog for choosing floor
But then he had to barf some more
This time: an oriental rug
Oh, well, I murmured with a shrug,
At least I got it right away
What could be wrong with him today?
We did more combing and kvetching
When suddenly we heard more wretching
All over the old couch I found
The rest of what was in the hound
I thought back to the night before
And a mess I found near our back door
It all began with a bag of trash
A big black one that held a stash
Of items from the bathroom can
Which held some tampons and some san-
Itary napkins—such a treat!
For an anxious dog with the urge to eat.
The garbage was in disarray
But everyone seemed a-okay
And all next day Sam ate and ate
And drooled while staring at my plate
I figured nothing could be wrong
That dog’s insides are really strong!
The next day I was due to leave
for a training session that would weave
important info I should know
with expertise to help me go
steps further in my line of work–
but how could I my duty shirk?
The dog he had to see the vet
Who had to x-ray my poor pet
Determining if he had blockage,
Like that bad time he ate the sock-age,
Requiring a late night sockectomy
(This day was socking it the heck to me)
A new dog-sitter is not the one
To watch the dogs through all this “fun.”
My husband away in another state
Could not get home to participate
In making choices for the pup.
All things, it seemed, to me were up.
It really doesn’t quite seem fair,
All this while pulling nits from hair,
And also combing—The Princess’ dad
Said this was not a skill he had.
I cannot have her here, he said.
If looks could kill, he would be dead.
I waited all day for the news
Made my excuses, had the blues
When the person I told the story chuckled.
That’s when my spirits really buckled.
In the end, the dog was quite okay,
But then there was the bill to pay…