“Courage!” she said, and pointed with her nose
And tail, with lifted paw, in perfect line,
“For I sense that beneath that bushy rose,
The origin of odors so divine.”
Then with her scruffy mate the girl did leap
And bury noses deep within the roots.
They there discovered an abandoned heap,
Which tasted to them like the sweetest fruits.
For why should they perform such puerile tricks
For treats when treasures can be anywhere?
Insatiable, no qualm of conscience pricks,
They forage ardently without a care.
They curl up as triumphant memories teem,
Their sated lips a-quiver as they dream.
Inspiration: Morning walkies, The Lotos-Eaters, Tennyson