In an attempt to lighten up my poem site I offer
this doggeral style ditty about my neighbor's dog-

I used to range those farming fields,
It became my daily habit;
And oft when roaming far and wide,
I'd catch a big fat rabbit.

Every possum, skunk and cat I saw
Were always under siege.
I'd chase them til completely pooped
Then sit and scratch my fleas.

But, then my master moved to town,
Oh! What a dreadful change;
Now, I am tethered to a leash,
No longer can I range.

I cannot run, or bark, or jump
But, in neighbor's yard I poop.
My master, though required by law
Does not own a pooper-scoop.

They call me Rover, though I can't,
That causes me much strife.
At last I've learned why one would say
'I'm leading a dog's life'.