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TO MY DOG, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: I often wonder why on earth
Last Line: That women always fall for.
Alternate Author Name(s): Rothschild, Dorothy
Subject(s): Animals; Dogs


I often wonder why on earth
You rate yourself so highly;
A shameless parasite, from birth
You've lived the life of Reilly.
No claims to fame distinguish you;
Your talents are not many;
You're constantly unfaithful to
Your better self -- if any.
Yet you believe, with faith profound,
The world revolves about you;
May I point out, it staggered 'round
For centuries without you?

In beauty, you're convinced you lead,
While others only follow.
You think you look like Wallace Reid,
Or, at the least, Apollo.
The fatal charms with which you're blest,
You fancy, spell perfection;
The notion, may I not suggest,
Is open to correction?
An alien streak your tail betrays;
Your ears aren't what they would be;
Your mother was -- forgive the phrase --
No better than she should be.

One can but feel your gaiety
Is somewhat over-hearty;
You take it on yourself to be
The life of every party.
In bearing, while no doubt sincere,
You're frankly too informal.
And mentally, I sometimes fear,
You're slightly under normal.
The least attention turns your brain,
Repressions slip their tether;
Pray spare your friends the nervous strain
And pull yourself together!

You take no thought for others' good
In all your daily dealings,
I ask you, as a mother would,
Where are your finer feelings?
I think I've seldom run across
A life so far from lawful;
Your manners are a total loss,
Your morals, something awful.
Perhaps you'll ask, as many do,
What I endure your thrall for?
'Twas ever thus -- it's such as you
That women always fall for.





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