Gouda and Dexter being little cutie pies. photo by Laine Gaherty
Fluffy little guys eating our couch,
Dexter bit my finger ouch,
shedding like there is no tomorrow,
We mourn our carpet in sorrow,
While one likes to give licks
The other is proud of his tricks
They are rewarded with num nums
To prove they are not dum dum’s.
They love to do zoomies,
As we watch a bunch of movies,
They squeak and jump with joy,
As they sit and play with many toys.
They pay no rent,
But our electrical cords are still bent.
Litter Boxes filled to the brim,
The cleaning process is grim
.
We can’t bring them outside for a walk,
Because they would be snatched by a hawk,
They do binkies upstairs,
After they hop up on our chairs.
Squirming out of our embrace,
They hide from us as we chase,
Dexter ate a dead moth and a fly
They probably tasted really dry.
They are loveable and cute,
They love eating their fruit,
I love these little buns,
To me they are like sons.
