Sonnet to a Dog
Shall I compare thee to a dirty mop?
Thou dost unfortunately stink.
And lie across the kitchen in a flop,
And drip a trail behind with every drink.
Into the bath you go, where I attempt
To scrub you clean, yet knots remain behind
That treat the soap and water with contempt
With some foul piece of detritus combined.
How like a mop! You clean up fallen food
With eager tongue and leave it looking clean
As sanitation goes, the method’s crude;
Appearances deceive, and germs remain.
Oh dearest dog, when you are old and gray,
Unlike the mop, I won’t throw you away.