The trials of wild animal training.
|My Pet Wolverine
Some six years ago while afoot on the trail,
I spied a young Wolvie with cute fuzzy tail.
I scooped up the lad, took him back to the cabin
before long I found that my food he'd been nabbin'
The cabinets were open, flour, beans everywhere,
so I scolded the Wolvie and whacked him with flare!
He bit off my finger with ornery delight,
then under the bed he lay hidden all night.
The Sun had arisen, Wolvie nibbling my toes,
OUCH, "stop it Wolvie", I smacked him with blows,
It's training he needs, so I Googled the facts,
"No results training Wolvies", the words that came back.
A year had gone by, the best job I had done,
but with only eight fingers my Wolvie had won!
after 60 new scars and 300 stitches
I decided to drag Wolvie back by his britches
Out on the trail he was dumped where it started,
A year older now Wolvie hissed as we parted!
Lil Wolvie was evil, his attitude mean,
so don't ever coddle, a pet Wolverine!
I'm proud to say that this poem received an awardicon from Gabriella and the Rising Star members writing recognition group. 12/11/2013