Man's best friend entered, back door;
I gifted a bone.
He worked at his eating trade,
And his bony, bony treat
Didn't last very long.
Then he flew out to the glade
And moved his intestines canine,
Parted his dumper slough
And his bony, bony treat
Turned into a log long,
And it creeped out as
A soggy doggy doo.

That night I felt my soiled foot slide
As through the trees I creeped.
Yiddish I shrieked, lit'rally, "Dreck!"
And it felt dank and deep.
I kvetched, "Not dried!"
I swore, despaired,
Angry. What could I do?
Against that dog I might just take up arms,
Now my shoe steeps in that soggy loggy poo.

Stained by what came from the back door,
With grit from the bone.
I worked to free my sweet suede,
Cemented in this slime,
Whose odor starts to rise.
Wish I'd a can of, for this dung, Glade.
He will die intestate, this canine.
Part must I from my shoe,
Or in very little time
I will be up to my arms,
Sinking deep into
This soggy doggy doo.