This dog "hates" cats...can't you tell?Old Mike used to have to punish him for trying to kill them. Either he has learned his lesson or mellowed with old age.
I can remember being a kid, sitting at a hard wooden desk in a classroom over in Fonda, and meeting Kipling for the first time. Still love Kipling, the Maltese Cat being my favorite....though not a poem.... Anyhow, I ended up loving at least some poetry, fashionable as it was to hate it back during those school days.
I especially love this kind of poetry. Don't know what the form is called, having been more interested in the stories in school than in the rules and regulations (haven't changed much I fear.)
But I love those firmly marching poems that pull you right in and bring you along to the end and leave a satisfied smile on your face. Go, read about a ranch Christmas, and smile your own self. (Thanks, Jinglebob)
And have a great day!
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