Just a little mop of fur,
Left abandoned by the road,
All alone, he'd die for sure,
I was thinking as I slowed.
He jumped up onto my lap,
Raining kisses on my face.
Then he curled up for a nap,
Acting like he owned the place.
Back at home, he sniffed around,
Laying claim to all he saw.
Then he finally settled down
With my shoe beneath his paw.
I called him "cute little shit"
As I reclaimed my shoe.
The Loner and The Misfit,
Now a family of two.
I would have to pick a name,
Something fitting for a mutt.
I played it like a game -
"Rover, Fido, Skip, Peanut."
He ignored me as I spoke,
Which was not a big surprise.
But the names turned into jokes
As I tried them on for size.
"Bilbo, Shrek, Hulk, Seinfeld, Spock."
He responded with a yawn.
"Hamlet, Rocky, Einstein, Doc."
He was even more withdrawn.
I was looking for a sign
And was not prepared to quit.
Sad brown eyes stared into mine.
"What's your problem, Little Shit?"
He reacted with a bark
And his tail began to wag.
Just a casual remark
Gave a name to my fleabag. |