Poor itchy Gyppie wears a plastic cone
Around her neck to shield her half-flayed flanks,
And now it’s acting like a megaphone
Through which she’s panting more distress than thanks.
This clunky apparatus catches on
The table legs and door jambs she walks past,
Yet it’s the best protection she can don
To keep from being constantly harassed
With “Stop that Gyp! Quit biting on your butt!”
Which just exasperates the whole household
As if she were a wretched, mangy mutt,
While I become an irritable scold.
We hope that soon her medicine will heal
Her sores and bring an end to this ordeal.