Walking the Dogs; a poem

A poem by Kayla

Walking the Dogs

It is fun to walk the dogs,

To take them on exciting jogs.

Tinky runs me down the street,

And I walk her up it in the heat,

To our house Clarence runs straight,

If he sees our cat, he thinks it’s great!

When we all march back, Mrs. Tripaldi says ‘hi’

We go inside along with a fly.

Although all the treats are great,

I try not to eat too much if it’s late.

(I also eat with a limit, cause,

I don’t really want to look like Tinky does!)

After snack and a bit of chat,

We go outside, Clarence likes that!
We grab our ice and the fly swatter,

And all of us hope it’s not any hotter!
We’ll sit in chairs or chase after flies,

Clarence makes Tink bite him, and he cries.

To the grass her back to us, Tink will go,

While we cheer on Clarence, as he catches ice like a pro.

When we see Mr. Potter, we all give a shout!

He’s a black carpenter bee, if you see him- look out!

We watch for Mrs. Woodpecker, humming birds too,

And get our arms stuck in flypaper glue.

The flies will bombard us, the dogs make us laugh,

By now, our time is probably cut in half.

Pretty soon, to home we must go.

We watch the clock to hit 4:15 or so.

We hug the 3 Tripaldi’s good-by

And bid good riddance to each and every fly!

Then we charge home, Clarence watching, and Tink,

At home we wash up with soap in the sink.

Dear God, I hope humming birds you will send,

Thanks for a good time, now this poem I must end.

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