THE LEGEND OF
THE DEAD DOG
Dudley is dead, decidedly so.
Everyone said, “It was his time to go.”
Although he had fleas and round knobby knees,
Dudley could always steal the show.
Down by the water he pranced and he danced.
Old folks loved him, as did kids in short pants.
Gale force winds couldn’t stop him from flaunting
Shining white teeth and a tail that was daunting.
Abnormally short were his legs and his ears,
Leaving all who saw him laughing to tears.
Only hot dogs and burgers he’d eat,
One after another, ‘til his belly touched his feet.
Now he’s gone to his final resting place,
with ketchup and mustard all over his face.
By Paul Grimshaw
