Were I to have a puppy,
I’d name him Doctor John
In account of his faithful nature
And his bountiful whiskers, all bristling in brown.

Come Wednesday morning, he would come
Bounding into the living room
Nibbling thoughtfully to himself
As he chewed over the latest piece of news
He’d pour over my medicine books
Leaving no spot undrooled on
And when he’d bark up trees I’d tell him
“Watson, you have made the wrong deduction -
You have fallen for a con.”

My sole friend, he would wait
For me. To finish what I hadn’t included in our plans
Patiently.

Were I to have a puppy,
His nickname would be James
I’d never have to heel him
He would do it by himself.

Every time I’d hide his favourite throwing stick
My puppy would just sit still and whine
He’d never find it by himself, though
“It’s elementary, bear boy” I’d lecture
“You must learn to use your nose.”
He’d only ever try that trick twice, as it would take him to the cranium
Hiding in my Persian slippers.


A thorough chap, he’d chase the cabbies
For miles round the streets in town
Until they’d reach their final destination,
Where he’d stop, puffing, and bark hello as I got down.

If I should ever own a puppy
It’d have to be this one
But till the day his path must cross mine
I swear,
I shall have no other companion.