Dog show handling poem: *funny* There was a time, there really was, When I was sweet and tender, When SHOW DOG meant a Disney Star, And Bitch was not a gender. I went to bed at half past ten, I went to church on Sunday. On Saturday I baked the beans, And did the wash on Monday. But then I got a certain pup, And an erstwhile friend said, "SHOW" And so I did, and so I do, OH! What I didn't know. I used to dress with flair and style, That was the life, don't knock it. But now each dress from bed to ball Must have a good bait pocket. I used to have a certain air, I wallowed in perfume, I used to smell of Nuit D'Amour, Now I smell like Mr. Groom. My furniture was haut decor, My pets a tank of guppies, Now I've furniture unstuffed, And well-adjusted puppies. Once I spoke in pristine prose, In dulcet tones and frail, But now I'm using language, That would turn a sailor pale I was taught to be well-groomed No matter where I went. Now all the grooming that I do Is in the handler's tent. I used to long for clothes and jewels, And a figure classed as super, Now the thing I yearn for most Is a nice new Pooper-Scooper. I adored a man who murmured verse Through intimate little dinners, But now the words I thrill to hear Are just three-"Best of Winners" I rise at dawn and pack the car The road ahead's a long one. The one I routed on the maps Invaribly's the wrong one. I really love this doggy life I wouldn't care to change it. But when I get that BEST IN SHOW I plan to rearrange it. And when my time on earth is done, I'll go without much nudging. Just give me three weeks closing date, And let me know who's judging. Author unknown I love it |
All times are GMT -8. The time now is 04:21 AM. |
Powered by vBulletin® Version 3.8.9
Copyright ©2000 - 2024, vBulletin Solutions, Inc.
Copyright ©2003 - 2018 YorkieTalk.com
Privacy Policy - Terms of Use