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.