MOO-MOO & THE SKUNK

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  • SecretPanda8491
  • Taking a break from bathing and loving my puppies. Still have nine adorable little furry babies to love until they go to their new homes.

Poem Commentary

This is a true story, I wrote it the day after it happened. Events unfolded just as I wrote it. Now it is funny, one of those life happens things. Moo-Moo was a little eight pound, black poodle, that feared no evil, or anything else.  I really miss her. She protected me with every ounce of her little body.

MOO-MOO & THE SKUNK


Sleeping so soundly a dream in my head,
All of a sudden I sat up in bed!


What was that odor? A horrible experience its true,
Throwing a fit on the bed was my poodle Moo-Moo.

She clawed and she rubbed across my bed in a fright,
I jumped out of bed and slammed my window so tight.

But much to my horror no relief did I get,
Moo-Moo was still on my bed throwing her fit.

I gagged and I gasped as my stomach started to turn,
Not only my nose but my eyes started to burn.

Still sleepy and unaware of what I was about to do,
I picked up my dog and said, "what's the matter with you!"

I grabbed both of her ears brought her face up to mine,
Took a deep sniff of her head and nearly went blind.

Stumbling backwards and tripping over a shoe,
Fell flat on my butt my face turning blue.

"What have you done," you goofy darn dog,
I gasped for some air my head in a fog.

"Don't you have any brains, leave the skunks alone if you please,"
I grabbed the edge of the bed and pulled myself to my knees.

Stumbling to the bath tub I put my little poodle right in,
As I grabbed for the shampoo I started to grin.

I rubbed and I scrubbed with lather galore,
That didn't do the trick it would take something more.

It was 4:30 in the morning how am I going to help her?
Reaching into the cupboard I pulled out some vinegar.

More scrubbing and rubbing from her tail to her head,
With the odor off her I then stripped the bed.

Putting the blankets in the washer I started to laugh,
I grabbed for the vinegar its my turn for the bath!

07-26-01
By Martha Sue Carr

 

 

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When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

SecretPanda8491’s Poems (14)

Title Comments
Title Comments
HANNA MARIE 1
LET ME PRETEND. 0
I DREAMED 0
LITTLE BUNNIES 0
LONELY OLD MAN 0
IMAGINE IF YOU WILL 0
IF I WAS A SQUIRREL 1
FIELDS OF DAISIES 0
DANCING IN HEAVEN 1
AFTERNOON PLAY 0
MOO-MOO & THE SKUNK 0
DREAMS 1
ROSES FOR YOU 0
MY FRIEND 0