This limerick is dedicated to my dog Floyd. It’s a nostalgic nod to his time as a puppy. He turned four this year but the scars of his youth remain. It’s a little known fact that puppies, like young humans, have baby teeth. These baby teeth are razors that slice through flesh like a hot knife through butter. I speak from experience. Painful, painful experience.

I love Floyd dearly, but he was a nightmare.


There once was a puppy called Floyd
Who men with bare feet would avoid
Or else feel the pangs
Of his sharp, puppy fangs
As the heels of their feet he destroyed

Grown in years...

Grown in years…

...but not in wisdom

…but not in wisdom


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