I preen under my master’s hands.
How lucky is the family
That gets to have a dog like me.
I guess I wasn’t standing guard
Because a tortoise crossed my yard.
And what a silly sight he made
Lumbering over each grass blade.
I can fetch and bark and run.
I have more skills than anyone.
His legs can’t run. His tail can’t wag.
His head looks like an old tea bag.
Then the biggest shame of all
Is the heavy shell he’s forced to haul.
He doesn’t have my shiny coat
But I don’t really want to gloat.
Cut him a break and let him hide
In the next cool dark approaching tide.