Patty had a puppy; it was white with big brown spots.
They weren’t shaped like circles, or tiny polka dots.
He had patches on his tail and some upon his ears.
He would have them all his life; Patty hoped for many
Patty named her puppy, Joe, because she liked that
All her friends were calling their pets names the
Joe barked when he saw a cat run down the street,
And tried his hardest to catch it, but alas, he had
He couldn’t reach the butterflies that fluttered near
Even though he tried and tried and tried for many
Joe couldn’t even chase the squirrel up a tree.
Patty laughed each time he tried. It was a sight to
Joe couldn’t do many things, but there was one thing
he did best.
He cuddled at night with Patty, when they both needed
She’d scratch his ears; he’d wag his tail; they were
the best of friends.
He’d grow up soon enough, she knew, for now, this poem