A little boy went to the dog pound to get himself a nice little dog. But guess what he got himself? A real watch dog indeed! Read the poem to find out more!
My dog lives on the sofa.
That’s where he wants to be.
He likes to sit there night and day
and watch what’s on TV.
He surfs the channels constantly
by chewing the remote,
then watches what he wants to watch;
I never get a vote.
He’s fond of films with animals.
He takes in nature shows.
Whenever cat cartoons come on
he always watches those.
He loves the pet commercials too,
and anything with food.
Whenever there’s a tennis match
he nearly comes unglued.
I got him from the dog pound.
He didn’t cost a cent.
I asked them for a “watch dog,”
but this isn’t what I meant.
