FURBALL’S THIEVERY

She was just a tiny little dog, a Maltese/Shitzu cross

But the people in the family knew that ‘Furball’ was the boss.

She’d take their socks and slippers and bury them real deep.

They had to hide possessions if they wanted them to keep.

For everything she found to steal, she’d give back something new

Most times a fragrant carcase which had language turning blue.

One day she stole the master’s shoe, Italian, shiny black;

No matter how he yelled at her she wouldn’t bring it back.

She hid it with her treasures in a hole she’d worked to make

And in return she’d given him a lovely, fat, green snake.

He didn’t like the exchange made, as snakey slithered free.

With all the hidey-holes around, no telling where he’d be.

Behind the stove, beneath the fridge, so many spots to look.

He had to find the reptile soon; his wife would go real crook.

She hated creepy-crawlies, they made her scream and shriek,

He’d learned his lesson through the years; be silent, calm and meek.

No matter that the dog was hers; he’d have to take the blame

For leaving shoes upon the floor, results were all the same.

If he did it he was damned, damned again if he did not,

And so he searched both high and low, his nerves all in a knot.

The time got short, his panic grew, where could that reptile be?

He finally looked beneath the bed, so dark he couldn’t see.

He struck a match so he could see, and got an awful fright.

The snake shot out, the match fell down and bedding caught alight.

The house burned down, the snake was gone, and wifey never knew

That Furball caused the trouble when she stole her master’s shoe.