Doggie, I’m sorry you did not like that.
Oh, how yucky you made that small bite seem.
Now the rest is the same as what you spat
On my kitchen floor, this mess that you deem
Totally unworthy of your taste buds.
Allow me to enlighten you, my friend:
See, even though you salivate in floods,
Kindly trust me here. The truth I will not bend.
Food on the counter, which is out of reach
Of your hungry mouth, truly has not changed—
Really tastes exactly the same. Yep, each
Morsel I am working on stays unchanged.
Open your mind and close your mouth, my dear.
Right now, Darling, let your tastes be rearranged:
Enjoyment for you will not be found here.
September 9, 2016
for “Roosevelt” who hated the samples I freely gave me, but still hovered dangerously close to the cutting board, though the offerings had not changed.
My friend, Carolee, tells me that we are all like my dog Roosevelt, in that even as over time we learn the same lessons over and over, we don’t learn too quickly. She said, “That new car smell, and those lovely leather seats are just calling my name! But it all tastes the same in the long run. True satisfaction only comes from God.” Amen, Carolee, and preach on!