I know My Dog’s Secrets | A Cottage Produce Poem

I know my dog’s secrets.
She harbors many.
And, in advance, I offer my apologies.

You see because my lawn is green, without a turd.
And, well I suspect it’s because you may have them,
of which, they probably belong to my dog; and thus, me.

You see, my dog is small… as you know.
And, perhaps, she goes undetected,
As she does in my purse whilst fine dining.

She is stealthy, and no doubt she has beholden man,
Standing in privacy, with coffee in hand…
To bare witness to the many cheeks of man.

So, after she arrives home and scratches on the door,
I do not dare ask where she has been.
For our lot is without a fence, and thus she peeps.

And her privilege she keeps…
Because she is small, and maybe cute.
The type of privilege where she could perhaps bite you a little and you will smile…
After stealth-crapping in your yard all the while.

She scuttles under your fence to eat your cat’s food,
And thus emerges with a minute head compared to her body.

To be continued…