The Horrible Mud Hog

I’m out on a stroll, walking my dog.
Feeling pretty good, I have a little jog.
The sun is out, the day is rather peachy.
Until I hear a toot, high-pitched and screechy.
It is the sound of the horrible mud hog.

My stomach turns and lurches into gear.
I stop in my tracks, frozen with fear.
Rover looks at me with such a curious face.
He’s totally clueless of what will take place.
Things look grim without a toilet near.

The dreaded mud hog that lives in my tum.
Has ruined the day and stolen the fun.
Now he’s moved south into my bowels.
Rover is distressed and begins to howl.
All I can do is tightly clench my bum.

But it’s of no use, I can’t hold back the clag.
Rover’s so worried, his tail ceases to wag.
But then I think of something that may help.
A thing I could catch this sick muddy kelp.
I pull out of my pocket Rover’s doggie bag!

Hidden behind a tree, I perform the heinous act.
Bag is completely filled with what I’ve crapped.
And amazingly my hands are totally clean.
By some miracle, I wasn’t even seen!
I hold aloft the large bag of meaty extract.

Feeling better, I dump the bag in a bin.
I wave to other folks, oblivious to my sin.
When suddenly the hog returns to attack.
But not me, he’s invaded Rover’s crack!
Without a second bag, the hog slyly grins.

Roover stops and squats then lets out a wail.
He looks so ashamed as he lifts his little tail.
People nearby pause and stare without a smile.
They wanna see me scoop his rancid pile.
Guess I’ll use my pants pocket, then bail!

Pure Pooetry

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