O canine! Thou art wise.
Thou art true and blue.
Tho’ thy fur sheds on mine sleeve
and thou dost chew mine shoe.
Thine days are spent in slumber.
Thine nights, ye howl at la luna.
Yet why oh why did thee purloin
mine sandwich made of tuna?
Man’s closest friend, thou art.
Yet this woman loves thee more.
Free of mind, and true of heart.
But must ye piddle on the floor?
Never wilt thou win a trophy.
Never wilt thou make me rich.
But thou wilt always be beside me,
you shaggy, splendid son of a bitch.