Get My Leg!

Get my leg! Get my leg!

Don’t make me beg,

Just get my leg.

 

My first love was a ten-pound terrier

I’d fall down, he’d get my derriere,

my giggles breaking the sound barrier.

 

Though it ended in a cuddle,

he liked me standing, our duet huddle.

When he was done, he’d leave a puddle

 

from the dance, spot on my pants,

then he’d go into a trance,

take a nap, spent by romance.

 

That dog would mount what he could get,

a pillow, stuffed bunny, a baseball mitt,

and then one day he mounted a Pit.

 

Four times his size, she wasn’t bewitched,

snapped with jaws his backbone ridge,

and now he humps his way across the Rainbow Bridge.