Some dogs are barking down the street, and Tig,
Who’s sitting here beside me, makes reply
With little care they’re large and she’s not big:
They’re rowdies she feels bounden to defy.
They’re quiet now, and Tig has settled down;
She’s snoozing on the carpet near my chair.
While in her antics, she can be a clown,
Now pacified, she sleeps without a care.
My hope is that, before it’s time to walk,
I’ll have this sonnet done and printed out,
So both our dogs can then be free to stalk
Whatever curbside critters they can rout.
Well, here we are—with one last rhyme to go
And two dogs frowning that I’m way too slow.