GYPSY AND TIGGY

                    Our two dogs have their special traits and ways,
                    Quite different, and yet compatible:
                    Tiggy is the one who frisks and plays,
                    While Gyp, the elder girl, prefers to mull,
                    Her chin on her front paws, lounged in a chair;
                    And yet they’re best of buddies—except when
                    I’m tossing them some treats for both to share,
                    Which I soon found I shouldn’t do again—
                    “Food before friends,” I quickly learned, is true,
                    An ancient jungle rule that still applies.
                    But otherwise, there isn’t much ado,
                    Not games as, say, two kittens might devise.
                    We think of them as children, much adored,
                    While they of us: M’lady and M’lord.

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