And the mystery of the missing rocket lolly.
I was always very smol,
this is a fact recorded in poetry elsewhere,
however, when I was even smoler,
Uncle Dave had a VERY BIG dog.
A Weimaraner, I’ve had to
Run down stairs and ask my dad
the dog’s name, he was called,
according to my father “Boot Dog”.
I remember, being at my nan’s,
sitting in the living room,
on a sultry summers day,
cooling myself with a rocket ship lolly.
This hefty grey ghost,
eyed my scrumptious frozen
treat. Squeezed his not inconsiderable
frame up onto my miniscule lap.
He was gentle, but determined,
with his lengthy rough tongue,
lapped up yellow, orange and red.
My petite little legs failed as levers.
My outraged utterances unheard
70lbs of sturdy dog makes quite good
soundproofing. Mum pops her head round
Says “You ate that fast”. Boot Dog lols.