Mccoy Poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska

McCoy is a boy,

he doesn't annoy

as he is my pet.

Let's have a bet

he is not fat.

He looks so stout

without any doubt

because of his hair,

it looks so fair,

it's white like snow,

it quickly grow

for me to make a pillow.

I love him so much;

his gentle touch

makes me smile,

it's just his style

to ask for a walk.

That's his way to talk.

When we go out

he becomes a scout,

he wants to know all

though he is small.

He is so curious,

he is never furious.

He likes to be warmed,

he likes to be combed,

he doesn't like to be washed,

and certainly to be bossed.

My home is never empty,

he always waits for me,

when I come back he shows

how much he missed me;

he wags his tail,

that's his way to hail;

he looks into my eyes,

he wants to get a prize.

I will never offend

my devoted friend.