He's a scamp, he's a rascal,  a barker at men,
A jumper on counters who won't stay in his pen.
He chases the chickens, and digs in the dirt,
And if he were human, you'd call him a "flirt".
He muddies your carpet, and scratches your door,
And leaves your friends wondering 
why you want more.
He begs for your breakfast and usually wins;
And won't say he's sorry, Just sits there and grins.
But 'tho he's a handful, and sometimes a pest,
You never would trade him; To you he's the Best!
The Best of companions, protectors and friends,
Most Loyal and loving, and true to the end.
So you give up some landscaping, underwear, too!
For the love of an Eskie, it's easy to do.
Cuz you know in your heart,  it's no loss to give in
To that little white fluffball
With the human-like grin!

Terry Thistlethwaite
copyright Chekia
You're listening to
by German composer
Felix Mendelssohn
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