The weather’s cool and Gyp would rather be
Outside in the back yard than here with me
And Tig, or so she thinks, but soon her bark
Proclaims she’s grown weary of her lark
And wants back in. Perhaps the chirring squirrels
And chittering birds who all upbraid our girls
Have gotten on her nerves and changed her mind
And now for warmth and quiet she’s inclined.
“All right, old girl, then come on back inside,
Or stay there on the porch—as you decide.”
She came right in and took my handed treat,
A Greenie nub, which she plopped down to eat,
Which meant that Tiggy too got her reward
For doing nothing—just for being adored.