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Words... Poems... The Dog's Complaint

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The American dialect version was first published by Every Day Poets. This is the (original) British dialect version. The differences are relatively small, but they're there.

The Dog's Complaint

When I was young my darkest day
was when you taught the bird to say:

I must admit:
At least this new pet cannot talk
and doesn't join us on our walk.

It's not enough:
She doesn't bark or want to play.
She steals my bed and sleeps all day.
She takes my ball and claws my nose.
She never leaves me there to doze.
How long will it take you to see?
She's not a better pet than me.

Come quick!
She's messed the carpet--all that blood
(and you complain I bring in mud).
There's feathers strewn across the floor;
she's opened up the birdcage door.

On second thoughts:
I guess if she stays out the way,
I might allow the cat to stay.

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