Bob Tale

My brother’s coon dog name of Bob was lying by the sink.
He was a pretty good old dog, but man, he had a stink!
I opened up the kitchen door and said he had to leave;
but when he tried to lick my hand, I met him with my sleeve.

“Out boy, now!” I yelled at him and pushed him towards outside.
Smelly dogs are something that I can’t abide.
I’d told my brother that I’d keep him for awhile
’till he found another owner, for dogs just weren’t my style.

I was almost done with breakfast, licking syrup from my plate
while waiting for a letter, but the mail was late.
I could watch the mailbox from the comfort of my chair.
I’d been waiting for an hour, but still it wasn’t there.

A bluejay sat up in a tree looking at the scene.
I hoped the mailman didn’t know that bluejays could be mean.
That letter from my true love I’d been yearning for,
standing at the window, pacing on my floor.

When I heard the mailman’s engine and ran out to my stoop,
that bluejay came right at me, with one big threatening swoop.
The mailman dropped my letter and ran on up the road–
fleet of foot in spite of his rather weighty load.

I stood up and tried to run to my letter box,
that bluejay  pecking at me from my collar to my socks.
I  grabbed my letter from the road and ran back towards the house,
putting my love letter in a pocket of my blouse.

But that bluejay was a devil, he stayed right up with me,
stabbing at my earlobes, pecking at my knee.
Then he spied the letter and before I could react,
he held it fast within his beak. My letter had been hacked!

I thought that I had lost it–and all hopes of romance.
I went from hopeful thoughts of love to feeling I’d no chance
of ever falling fast in love with someone I had met
on a social network on the internet.

He’d said he’d write a letter giving his address
and if I didn’t answer, I’d have no redress.
He’d close up his account and bother me no more.
And that is why day after day, I’d waited at my door.

I saw that bluejay flying low, my letter in his beak.
I put my head down in my hands, but then I heard a squeak.
I glanced up fast to see that jay sitting on the fence
not knowing  Bob crept up behind, he offered no defense.

Bob seized him fast around the neck before he’d time to think,
and the bluejay got a message that wasn’t written in ink!
He dropped the letter and made off to other Bob-less lands
while Bob came up and placed my letter gently in my hands.

And that is how I came to have a family of six
and how I came to treasure all Bob’s nuzzles and his licks.
And how Bob, too, came to have a chance to be a dad
with the lovely Irish Setter that my true love had.

Now our families are mixed and living happily–
all so in love that I’m in risk of writing sappily.
With no fear, the mailman brings us letters every day.
And you can bet for sure that we’ve seen no more of that jay!

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/a-dog-named-bob/