Mom wouldn’t let me have a dog
“With all the mess they make!”
So, if I couldn’t have a dog,
I said I’d like a snake.
My mother gasped quite audibly,
But Dad approved the plan.
“A snake,” he gulped, “a real live snake . . .
Well, sure, I guess you can.”
We went to Ralph’s Repulsive Pets
And bought a yard of asp.
It coiled inside a paper bag
Held firmly in my grasp.
I put him in a big glass tank
And dubbed my new pet Rover,
But all the fun of owning it
Was very quickly over.
For all he did was flick his tongue
Once or twice each minute,
While nervous Mom rechecked the tank
To make sure he was in it.
Then one fine day, we don’t know how,
My Rover disappeared.
My father told me not to fret,
But Mom was mighty scared.
We searched the house from front to back
And gave the yard a sweep.
By midnight we had given up
And tried to get some sleep.
At three A.M. my dad arose
To answer nature’s call.
I heard him scream, I heard him swear,
And then I heard him fall.
For Dad had found the wayward pet
I’d given up for dead
Curled up inside his slipper,
Lying right beside his bed.
Now Rover’s living back at Ralph’s
With frogs, and newts, and guppies,
And now I have a dog named Spot—
She’ll soon be having puppies.