Animal Bites Poem by Conor McMahon

The dog stared at me,
With innocent eyes,
But this was merely,
A well concealed guise.

Beneath his appearance,
Lay a blood-thirsty beast.
Beneath my skin,
Lay a magnificent feast.

With great pointed teeth,
Designed to inflict pain,
He snapped at my ankles,
To get blood to drain.

With a great shrieking noise,
I hopped up and down;
The profanities I yelled,
Could be heard across town.

I pulled back my sock,
To check the wound;
For if skin had been broken,
I'd surely be doomed.

I'd read in the manual,
Of First Aid,
That if tissue had been crushed,
A price would be paid.

If the flesh beneath my sock,
Revealed a flawed complection,
Attention would be needed,
To avoid an infection.

For this animal could carry,
The cruelest disease;
The bacteria in his mouth,
Could develope rabies.

If the bite on my ankle,
Caused muscles to convulse,
Surely the doctor,
Would diagnose tet'nus.

The wound was exposed,
And finally in sight;
No blood had been drawn,
To my delight.

I leapt into the air,
And let out a girlish shriek,
I didn't know a newborn pup,
Had a jaw so weak.