The Dogs all had a party.

A poem about Dogs strange habits.

The Dogs all had a party.

The Dogs all had a party, they came from far 'n' wide
But they made them take their arse-holes off before they went inside.
The great soiree a smasheroo, on bones and treats they chewed
until, a Bulldog shouted "FIRE" and chaos then ensued.

Overwhelmed with fear and panic, a party crowd no more
As smoke began to fill the room, they rushed toward the door.
The lights were out and all was dark, there was no way to look
So they grabbed the nearest arse-hole from the nearest hook.

Fleeing the burning building, no time to sort things out
Confusion reigned, then loud there came another warning shout.
For down the lane the firemen came, dog catcher in the rear
T'was plain to every Dog and Pup, no time to linger here.

Off in all directions, the party goers scattered
Tails tucked in and ears pinned back, arse-holes no longer mattered.
For time would come when all were safe, and ample time to kill
With Dog catcher close behind their heels, they headed for the hills.

So, to cut what is already now, a long sad story short
The dogs all made it home that night and none of them were caught.
From that day forth, they all stayed home to party ne'er again
But the thought of misplaced arse-holes, in their minds, doth still remain.

So if you have ever wondered, whether boulevard or street
It's straight to sniffing arse-holes wherever two dogs meet.
A fact my friend that's seldom taught, so mostly goes unknown
They're not really sniffing arse-holes, they're still searching for their own.

Kevin Dunn.