Garth was romping and running
Up and down the hall.
Barking loudly and having a ball.
He was telling me to take him out,
I said O K, you don't have to shout!
I let him out and he ran around
Until the ideal spot was found.
Then he made a big pile, it was a beauty,
Saying, I'm always happy to do my duty.
Even though I sometimes give him a bone,
He just couldn't let well enough alone.
I tried to dissuade him with all of my might,
But he just had to go back and take a big bite.
And later to do what I totally abhor
By throwing it up all over the floor.
I called him aside and asked, "How come
Of your shit you have to make a feast? "
And he replied, with a grin,
"It's just the nature of the beast! "
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem