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Max Is A Daddy’s Boy

I did my homework, I cruised the net
In a desperate search for the perfect pet.
A program that promised to match you two up
Just input the things you would like in a pup.
It calculates, evaluates, then spits out a score
And tells you the type of dog to look for.
You see I had to have my ducks in a row
Or my hubby would frown and shake his head no.
I must be prepared, I must know my stuff
We’d had dogs before and he’d had enough.
A Boston was said to be the dog we’d adore
With a compatibility percentage of like ninety-four.
These dogs were nothing like what we’d had before
Boston’s were smart and sweet to the core
They were loyal and quiet but what’s even more,
They learned very quickly not to pee on the floor.
I re-read my info and made sure it was clear
Gave it to the boss and said, “Could you look at this dear?”’


He read it all through then looked over at me
Tapped the pages and grunted and muttered, “We’ll see.”
But I kept at him constant like a tick on a dog
“Not now,” he would say, “I’ve got a sink to unclog!”
I was very persistent, I wouldn’t give up
I chased him on down, I wanted this pup!
But then he grew angry, said, “Get outta my face!
Leave me alone! Get off of my case!
I came to the find out, directness won’t do
I had to be clever and try something new.
I cut out dog pictures; made them easy to see
And posted them in places my husband might be.
He removed every one without saying a thing
“Who’s that doggie in the window??” I’d walk around him and sing.
“You’re trying my patience,” he said raising his voice
I became desperate; he had left me no choice.
I rounded the kids and we hopped in the car
We drove to the dog pound, it wasn’t that far.
I steered them inside and gently persuaded,
“Oh! Look at that Boston…” I casually stated.
And that’s all it took, I had used my trump card
Saying no to the kids was incredibly hard.
He was a bit grouchy for a week maybe two
But playing with Max was hard not to do.
He eventually gave in and acknowledged our pet
And forgave me for breaking the rules he had set.
Max is a daddy’s boy, I should be quite pleased
But my side of the bed he’s quite comfortably seized
Shelley Allsup
All Rights Reserved


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