Buttons' Poem

I used to run at Wimbledon, and raced as 'Novelty Game'
But I now enjoy retirement and 'Buttons' is my name
I'm nine years old 'cos I was born, way back in '94
I'm a handsome red-fawn greyhound and I'm Irish to be sure!
Duke's Lodge is what my sire was called, my racing records show
My dam was kalajena and I'm one of six you know!
I've three brothers and two sisters, but separate ways we went'
'Cept brother Bertie 'cos with him, my ex-racing days were spent
At a Welfare Centre, we both lived, we couldn't bear to part
And so when Bertie passed away, it really broke my heart.
They thought I couldn't be rehomed - as confidence I lacked
When Fiona had a 'three day trial', she never took me back!
Now, how about my ideal day? Well this would start at three
And that is 3am of course, I'm an early riser me!
At the bottom of the staircase, I'd bark to wake my Mum
And she'd let us in the garden, where Jack and I would run.
The smells are much more int'resting around that time, you know?
All sorts of creatures have passed by, our noses tell us so!
Back to bed, then up again and Mum would make some tea
And there would be some Bonios, for the other dogs and me.
Next - to the woods, 'cos that's the place, where squirrels can be found
There would be no other people and no other dogs around.
Back home again, it's time to eat, my favourite raw minced beef!
And then I'd curl up close to Jack and have a little sleep!
I'd check the garden one more time - before our walk was due
And then, we'd meet up with Mum's friends and other greyhounds too!
Dinnertime, raw meat once more, I'm spoilt - that's crystal clear!
Then later in the evening, my Mum would rub my ears
She'd sit and keep me company, as I lay in my bed
And tell me just how brave I am and gently stroke my head.
Now I've described the things I like, there's others I detest!
I'm very scared of strangers and I really hate the vets
The ironing board holds fears for me - that may sound odd to you
Busy roads and long car rides and milk floats scare me too!
I'll tell you 'bout my favourite food, (you know I Iove raw meat)
Tripe sticks, pigs ears and freeze dried liver, these are hard to beat!
I've acquired some naughty habits - since I've been living here
If food's left unattended - it's been known to disappear!
When we hear our Mum arriving home, I'll bark to say 'hello'
When I want a fuss, I puff my cheeks and jab her with my nose!
I'm really quite a nervous lad but I'm slowly coming round
There's so much to enjoy these days - true happiness I've found!

The pooch cycle
Jack | George | Jerry | Tegan | Buttons

© 2003 Judy Zatonski, reproduced with permission
Please contact Judy at the above email address if
you would like her to write a poem for you.