Tonight, I feast! That was the plan,
The cupboard, though, was bare.
The little ice-box and the fridge?
No, there was nothing there…
I fancied something full of taste
I dish that I could savour,
With only mouldy bread in stock
I sought another flavour.
The dog, of course, is well supplied,
With treat and meat and biscuit,
And though her dinner smelled quite good
I thought I shouldn’t risk it.
The small dog isn’t small at all,
She eats whatever’s going
(And probably some other stuff
I have no way of knowing.)
She eats my food and all her own
With laughing eyes and cheek.
She’s plump and healthy, glossy coat…
In fact, she looks quite sleek….
I took a long look at the dog
But know I couldn’t roast her…*
I’ll cut the green bits off the bread
And shove it in the toaster.
*For a start, she wouldn’t fit in the oven.