There is a place where tennis balls die
And before slobbering pups are born,
And there, their fuzz grows worn and frayed,
And there, their covers are torn away,
And there, their dogs are told to play
In the tall green grass of the park.
Let us leave this place where canine cages cramp
And the dark dogs are chained and muzzled.
Past the Petco holding an obedience class
We shall walk with a walk that is harried and fast,
And watch when the cars with dogs drive past
To the place where tennis balls die.
Yes, we shall walk with a walk that is harried and fast,
And watch when the cars with dogs drive past,
For the dogs, they mark, and their masters, they know
The place where tennis balls die.
I love this!!!!
“in the tall green grass of the park”
Thank you for not rhyming that with “bark”…
This is wonderful and fun and “real”
I love it!