Dogged love

Our dear auntie owns a lap dog          

-the type of dog that I call rat- 

Auntie treats it like a princess, 

A spoilt and pampered one at that,      

She has the greatest joy to tog 

The yorky she calls Liz-a-bet. 

She will always kiss and caress           

Her beloved and beribboned pet.        

But Lizzy simply turns her ears off       

Whenever auntie calls her name.                

She will never heed to orders, 

Which surely is a crying shame.           

Prohibitions are unheard of,                            

For her, there simply is no “no”.                      

On insane is where it borders,         

We never guessed where this would go.

We always used to smile and shrug     

When auntie would get desperate        

But when little Lizzy bit her                 

-an unexpected twist of fate-               

We all cried out: “The little thug!”        

And pitied auntie for a week               

-in the nose was where she got her-    

 Now, we have turned humble and meek.       

Auntie simply turns her deaf ear                                  

Whenever we throw in our dimes.       

“Once bitten, twice shy” we tell her

-she has now been bitten three times-  

But auntie does not want to hear         

how we blame the little creature,                     

She insists on kissing dog fur               

-not exactly clean by nature.    

Despite the scars, she's unperturbed,

She indulges in adoring,

Never feels scratch nor abrasion,

She practises plain ignoring

Lizzy´s bites, my: ”She´s disturbed,                 

That thuggish, rat-like little creep!”      

Love of the doggish persuasion           

Can obviously run too deep.