Pet peeve: when writers say something like, "Lady Gaga, for all of you who have been on Mars for the last few years," which assumes that all of course know of Lady Gaga, or whomever. Dogs cannot set up iTunes accounts, our paws are not deft enough to work iPods, and some of us live in families whose musical taste is not all that au courant.
But I digress, as usual. To kick off National Canine Poetry Fortnight, and because I do like to plan ahead, I have composed a couplet:
I never grow tired
Of being admired.
Thanks to Lorna at the newly-renamed Wellesley Books for not only being one of my most ardent admirers (although how could one gauge the depth of such adoration as I get when I enter that fabulous home of treats) but also for her inspiration.