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