WORKING CLASS DOG

It was a messy fire station,
We could barely find the fire pole.
A source of madness and frustration,
The clutter was out of control.

Chief yelled, “Has anyone seen my fishing pole?”
And then came Sherman in a fit,
“That's not the only thing they stole,
I can't find my catcher's mitt!”


“Chief! They took my box of crayons!
I'm headed out to buy some more.
And they stole the money from my pants,
Can I have a dollar for the store?”

“What's all this talk about a thief?
Our things are buried here on this floor.
Pick up your toys,” said Chief,
“And you'll find the crayons and a whole lot more.”


“Chief! I'm afraid that you're confused.
Through this whole station I have seeked.
I'm being wrongfully accused!
They've stole three boxes just this week!”

“Gus, I've bought you your last box,
From now on the money you must earn.
You're going to have to get a job ---
Some responsibility you will learn!”


“A job?” said Gus, “I can be a detective!
And I'll bring that thief to justice!
I'll be a sheriff most respected,
Like my Great-Granddog Augustus!”

“Gus, I just spoke with Pastor Vaughn,
And you've got a different job instead.
He needs you to mow Mrs. Peterson's lawn,
You'll find the tools out in her shed.”


So Gus grabbed his cycle and a map,
And pedaled off down 5th to Main,
Then took a right just past the tracks,
And found his way to Crawford Lane.

He filled the mower up with gas,
And got to work with record speed.
He quickly neatened up the grass,
And then he pulled out all the weeds.


He fixed her sticky sidewalk gate,
Then patched a hole along the fence,
And made the hornets most irate,
When he cleared their nest out from her vent.

“Gus! This yard is great!
But you're looking rather hot.
Go take a break beneath that shade,
We'll have some lemonade and talk.”


As Gus guzzled down his drink,
She said, “You are a most industrious pet.”
“Ma'am, are there more chores that you can think?”
She smiled, “Can you fix my flower bed?”

Something had dug up all the dirt,
And left a mighty mess.
The plants were dangling by their roots.
“Most likely rabbits,” Gus did guess.


Behind that muddy mound,
Gus found a most impressive pit,
And heard a muffled sound
Beneath the mulch and wooden chips.

As he quarried through that crater,
He passed through shale and slate and coal.
And then beneath a limestone layer,
He found a broken fishing pole.


And a pile of melted crayon bits,
And a chewed up catcher's mitt wet with drool.
And then he found the little bandit ---
“Max??? You're supposed to be at nursery school!!!”

Gus rushed back to the station,
And proclaimed to Chief his innocence.
Dan grinned, “I think that Max is part Dalmatian,
And you received a taste of your own medicine!”


Gus woke up from his dream,
And learned that naughty dog was him,
Then dropped unto his knees,
And prayed, “Forgive me for my sin.”

He repaired the muddy hole he’d made,
And gave back Chief’s pole and Sherman’s mitt.
He put his toys up in the storage crate,
And returned the lemonade to the fridge.


David J Allen
July 9, 2005


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