Let me tell ya,
that Toby, 
he was a wiley one. 

He’d come running at the sight of you.
Ol’ Toby would lick your face as if it were covered in bacon grease. 
You’d have to pry that boy off ya, and whack him one to keep him from humpin’ your leg. 

Ol’ Toby’s gone now. I always figured his life would have been easier for him if he were born a dog and not a man.


1 Comment

Filed under poetry, Short stories and essays

One response to “Toby

  1. yourejivingme

    The more I know men the better I prefer dogs.

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