“Oh please, could you trim little Fido.
He hasn’t been combed for a week.
He’s got a few knots round his bottom and perhaps
Could you clip round his feet?”
Now Fido’s a black cocker spaniel and quiet and peaceful
At that, but his feet are ruddy great soup plates
And his bottom resembles a mat.
The standard says “ears long and silky”
I wonder if Fido knows this.
For his are a three inches width ways
To thin them would surely be bliss.
His chest and his tummy are matted
With felt you could use on your roof
And his legs could grace Nelson’s column,
But he’s loved, and that is the truth.
His teeth could do with de-scaling
A flea! - and my heart gives a lurch and look at those nails,
I wonder if they’re best on a bird on a perch?
So I try to trim Fido to make him as nice as my own,
But four hours later I give up! He’ll have to be cut, is the groan.
Now Fido’s mistress is coming she’ll see all the work that I have done.
The ears - no longer like footballs and now you can tickle is tum!
“OH NO MY POOR LITTLE FIDO -
You’ve cut him too short” she yells!
“I’ve entered him in several classes tomorrow
In the show at Builth Wells!”