Ode To Queequeg (was: The Boxer, by Paul Simon)

I was just a poor dog,
And my storyīs quickly told
For I offered no resistance
To the big olī alligator
That came eating me.
I lie at rest.
Still, Iīll tell you what you want to hear
About our TVīs best

When I left my litter 
And my kennel box
I was no more than a pup
Taken home by an old lady
To a quiet small apartment place,
Being walked,
Peeing slow,
Chasing rats back to the trash cans
Where she wouldnīt let me go
Waiting for the small sticks
Only she would throw.

Chewing only off a few bones
I was found by an old man
But he didnīt like me.
So he gave me to a doctor
Down in Maryland.
I do declare
There were Fridays she was so alone
She even washed my hair.

I was putting on my winter pelt
She took me to a lake
Searching Blue
With her funny looking partner.
He was dissing me.
Missing me
She is now.

Here in heaven lives a boxer,
And a shepherd, and a Dane.
Oh so fondly they remind me
That Iīm just a Pomeranian
And chase me till I yelp loud,
Though my mistress isnīt near,
"Oh St. Scully, come and help me,"
But she finds just my remains.

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