this is josh, the blog-mog. dinah has gone to the purveyor of pussy fare. as she ought, after what she did to us yesterday. what? you ask. even now, i flatten my ears and stress- salivate at the thought. she only took us to the vet, that’s what. well out of order, i think. so treats are definitely in order.
but just to show good faith and to amuse my fans, i have nicked one of her daft poems. enjoy.
by the way, did you notice how dextrous i now am? didja? didja?
off to have a snooze now.
The Wellbeloved trousers were tight as a drum
Over the Wellbeloved Christmas pud tum
And stretched to the limit o’er the Wellbeloved bum.
Held fast by a button and frayed linen thread…
The Wellbeloved brain gave it never a thought
While dancing and prancing in Christmassy sport
(Though given the imminent danger, it ought!)
But bubbles of Bollinger danced in his head…
The vigourous reel proved too much for the string
Button and linen were rent with a Ping!
With stitches to fabric declining to cling.
And Wellbeloved’s cheeks glowed embarrassing red…
Hitching his netherwear up from the floor
The mortified Wellbeloved raced for the door
Hearing each snigger, each hearty guffaw.
Poor Mr. Wellbeloved wished he were dead…
The moral of this which to you I bequeath:
Never neglect to wear culottes beneath.