I just wanted to sleep last tonight…
The Small Dog stayed up late,
She’s all excited, I can tell,
Just by the prancing gait
And, “Writer, please just come and see…
I’m up at fifty-eight!”
“It’s not the New York Times
Bestseller list,” I try to say.
The Small Dog interrupts me
So I let her have her way…
“I’m beating Hillaire Belloc
and Ted Lear… that’s made my day!”
She’s bouncing with elation,
“I’m an author now,” says she.
“They’re not reading the classics,
Writer dear, they’re reading me!
So would you like my pawtograph?”
She grins with canine glee.
Though fame may well elude me
Till I’m six feet underground,
And I’m okay with knowing that
As on the keys I pound,
I never once imagined
I’d be beaten by a hound.
Doggerel: Life with the Small Dog
Available now in paperback and for Kindle
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