Ode to Ronald

Ronald,

You had such little legs.

(Which did so much work, considering.)

When you breathed

it reminded me of an emphysema victim smoking their last.

And your big bulgy eyes—were they under intense pressure?

Or just wobbling around because you were happy?

Oh Ronald!

Despite your small furry pins you could manage a run

but you did breathe like an out of tune tuba

as a result.

Because your face was so wrinkly and squishy

that you barely had a nose

But Ronald...

it wasn’t your aggressive in-breeding that did you in.

You left your mortal coil doing what you liked best:

eating everything you could find.

(literally everything on the table)

I hope it was fun; whilst it lasted.

Goodbye Ronald

I’ll miss your stubby twizzly tail

your Churchillian stares

those flabby jowls

and ears built for a much bigger model.

You never smiled, but you warmed my legs nicely.

Thanks, Ronald.