Pouting pup’s ruff day began when she erred in burying her best bone
Twixt an impalatable phreatophyte and an oddly cold stone,
Where roots have since time of deposit snatched it from a free-access zone
And won’t return it in spite of owner’s heart-wrenchingly off-key moan—
So sat upon mat in state of mulligrubs both hungry and alone
Lies my droopy Snoopy—not yet aware I brought her an ice cream cone. ; )
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