Without You, Life Is Ruff

A pure little bundle of furry joy,

So happy always to see me come home.

With every trick she does, makes her so coy.

Although she hates that I must use a comb;

For since her head is a full mop of fluff,

And therefore must be raked through like the leaves.

My most beloved sweet yet silly scruff,

Brings back that tennis ball that she retrieves.

Her tail wags more with each treat she does get;

Who loves to lay at the end of my bed,

And comforts me whenever I'm upset.

A puppy is great for the things I said,

But though the fun, it is a ton of work,

On puppy duty that I must not shirk.

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