Wee Brodie - ode to a westie puppy
An old mans' face all floppy-eared
the wee black eyes and santa beard
soft, white and fluffy puppy boy
Wee Brodie westie you're a joy
We watch you grow and run and play
getting stronger every day
and makin runs towards the couch
you'll make it soon - without an 'ouch'
Our spaniel Isla first was jealous
Now tries to wake you, over zealous
she's an amazing adopted mother
to her you're never any bother.
She lets you roll and bite and crawl.
Sounds like a sore fight - what a brawl !
You squeak & squeal make such a din
I'm sure that's why she lets you win.
She even lets you clean her dish
and she cleans yours, even if it's fish
Her toys she lets you play and share
and only rarely teeth she'll bare.
The button nose so wet and black
and wee black paws just makin tracks
in snow much deeper than your tummy
but it's too much fun to come in for mummy
But now the day draws to a close
you let me dry your fur and toes
then 'sit' so regal like a prince
to munch your biscuits mixed wi mince
A wee tired face comes for a cuddle
ears, tail and fur all in a muddle
a big fat cushion - welcoming
a throne for Brodie - westie king !
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