The Small Dog’s Revenge…

I must do the floor, I thought, in some despair,
The small dog is moulting and shedding her hair.
She’s out in the garden, so if I am quick,
And just whip the vac out, that should do the trick.

She’s already cross because out in the garden
I got out the lawnmower, let my heart harden,
So into the hallway she wandered off sighing,
(This dog is a drama queen) huffing and crying.

As soon as I’d finished she came out exploring
(And showed me my place with some pointed ignoring),
It is quite ironic, her coming on strong,
‘Cause she hates walking on the wet grass when it’s long.

She wandered back in with cut grass on her feet…
She couldn’t care less about keeping things neat…
So I got the hoover from where it was lurking
To set about doing much-needed houseworking.

There’s hair on the carpet and hair on the chair,
That silky-fine dog hair that gets everywhere,
I hoover it up every day, but in vain,
For in moulting season, it’s really a pain.

But halfway through hoovering, I hit a bump,
Where I was quite certain there wasn’t a lump.
It caught me off-balance, it was unexpected,
The floor and my anatomy soon connected.

Where the carpet has lain all this while nice and flat…
Was a lump, and I ought to investigate that…
I couldn’t imagine what creature might be there,
And was fairly worried about what I’d see there…

I swear I heard laughter from out in the hall
As I dug from the rug her preferred tennis ball.
Quite how she had got it there, I’ll never know
Because under the rug’s not where tennis balls go.

“Oh writer,” the small dog informed me at once,
“It went there with ease, must you be such a dunce?”
“But why, small dog, tell me, why bury the ball?”
“‘Cause I can’t protect it from here in the hall!”

She does hate the hoover, it’s always upset her,
She calls it a monster and thinks it will get her.
“That monster sucks everything right up its snout…
Do you think I would risk leaving tennis balls out?”

Not only was I feeling bruised now and aching,
I’m sure that the laughing dog’s shoulders were shaking.
She looked at me kindly, “You should take more care…”
She said, “Oh, and you realise, you’re covered in hair…”


From ‘Doggerel’, available via Amazon

Published by Sue Vincent

Sue Vincent is a Yorkshire-born writer and one of the Directors of The Silent Eye, a modern Mystery School. She writes alone and with Stuart France, exploring ancient myths, the mysterious landscape of Albion and the inner journey of the soul. Find out more at France and Vincent. She is owned by a small dog who also blogs. Follow her at and on Twitter @SCVincent. Find her books on Goodreads and follow her on Amazon worldwide to find out about new releases and offers. Email:

72 thoughts on “The Small Dog’s Revenge…

  1. Dearest Ani, your cleverness reminded me of the time Missy hid her chicken bones [raw of course!] inside her bedding so Kush wouldn’t find them. It worked too. By the end of the week there was quite a collection, not to mention a curious, um, perfume.

    I’m sure She is most grateful that your tennis ball doesn’t smell. 🙂

    Hugs from Me and Them.


        1. The last time she lost THE ball, she went into a decline and mourned it for nearly two months. Se’s only had that one a year or so… this one has been with her several years now.
          Thre are others..she must have more than twenty ‘spare’ balls. But there can be only ONE in her eyes.

          Liked by 1 person

          1. Tell Ani I understand. I have a special cup and feel lost if I can’t drink my coffee from it. The Offspring has a special fork that was once mine. I have no idea why they’re special but they are.
            Huge hugs to you both. 🙂


            1. Um…they smell, and they have an endearing habit of spitting/sneezing grassy snot on you when they’re displeased. I’ve learned to dislike them. 😦


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