That’s A Yorkie-Poo, To You

Today I met an alien,

A really decent kind of guy,

A shade of blue with three arms,

Two feet and one big buggy eye.

I was fixing a hole in my roof

When he hit my weathervane,

He yelled, “Where can I park this rig?”

And I thumbed him over to Feather Lane.

The heat index was one-oh-one

And I thought I’d had a stroke,

I stumbled down off the ladder

Half-hoping it was a joke.

I called old Charlie on Pine Street

And told him to bring the beer,

I mentioned we had a visitor

“Roof’s not gettin’ fixed this year.”

The alien fellow waddled

As he walked over to my yard,

He apologized profusely

Handing me his insurance card.

Charlie came walking down the road

Carrying a case of beer or two,

He didn’t come alone, of course

He brought his Yorkie-Poo.

The alien looked flabbergasted

“Whazzat, Whazzat, Whazzat,” he cried,

He claimed he’d never seen a dog

Well, not one that wasn’t fried.

I tried to explain the best I could

Without telling a fallacy,

It was a long haired, curly tailed mutt

with exceptional quality.

The dog was worth a fortune

More than a labradoodle,

That’s what they told old Charlie

When he bought the silly noodle.

The dog yapped at the alien

Causing our friend to jump with fright,

Then the pooch bounced about the lawn

With playful joy and great delight.

That’s a Yorkie-Poo, to you

A mixture of Poodle and Yorkie,

Born with a snarky attitude

Sassy, quirky and corky.

“Charlie, hand me a tennis ball!

Watch! This dog has an affliction,

He loves squeaky flying toys

Chasing them is his addiction.”

I bounced the ball upon the ground

And commanded the dog to sit,

He did as he was told to do

While he quivered and shook a bit.

I threw the ball fast and far

And I yelled for the pup to “fetch”,

All I saw was a flash of blue

As the alien’s neck could stretch.

The blue guy was round and squat

His belly nearly touched the ground,

Keeping his torso firmly in place

As his head chased after the hound.

The dog caught the tennis ball

He clenched it within his mouth,

The alien caught the Yorkie-poo

And from there it all went south.

A few short gulps was all it took

For the Yorkie to disappear,

Down the gullet of the alien

Who snapped back like a spear.

It took a sec to unpuzzle it

I said, “Uhm, Sir, but ex-cuse me,

Could you spit out the Yorkie-Poo

You see, it belongs to my friend, Charlie.

Charlie, of course, was burning red

As his best friend had just been eaten,

By an alien with one big eye

Someone he had just been greetin’.

“Yum, yum, yum,” said the alien

As he rubbed his round fat belly,

“It’s been a while since I had a dog

However, they’re best with jelly.”

Something got lost in translation

‘Cause the alien seemed quite proud,

He appeared to look a bit confused

When Charlie shouted out loud.

“Give me back my Yorkie-poo

He loves me and brings me glee,

He sticks close to me like Velcro

In everything, even when I pee!”

“I’ll be lost without my best friend

I don’t know what I shall do,”

He picked up his nerf ball launcher

Crying, “It’s useless without my poo!”

I repeated, “Excuse me, Sir,

Please vomit the Yorkie-poo,

The fur ball with the floppy ears ,

It’s upsetting to you know who.”

I pointed over to Charlie

Who was raining buckets of tears,

“The fancy mutt was his best friend

I believe, for six whole years.”

A light turned on above him

As the alien got the hint,

He tossed up the Yorkie-poo

Who sprang out in a sprint.

The alien apologized

For thinking it was a barbecue,

When he saw Charlie bring the beer

He thought the dog was on the menu.

Charlie was beyond surprised

And happier than could be,

The pup and his friend did a jig

And they both did a little wee.

The puppy dog had never let go

Of his favorite toy of all,

Clenched between his canine teeth

Was his yellow tennis ball.

It’s okay not to understand

Things only Yorkie owners know,

Yorkie’s aren’t like other dogs

Because they always steal the show.