All the dogs had a role — except for Mutt Lee Cole
All the dogs in Dog Town
were waiting for the fair.
All the dogs. Yes, all the dogs.
Those with and without hair.
The Dog Town fair was world famous.
And dogs from both here and there,
all came flooding into Dog Town,
to come see the Dog Town fair.
Every dog’s skills
were used in all sorts of ways.
Jobs for the big dogs, small dogs,
and jobs even for the strays.
Only one in Dog Town had no role
in the big annual event.
His name was Mutt Lee Cole,
yet every year he went.
Every year he tried to help,
as he really needed the money.
He could have been a certified Dog Clown,
but he wasn’t particularly funny.
One year he held out umbrellas
to stop attendees from getting drenched.
But the fair was always in summer,
and the City replaced him with a bench.
He could have tried to get into catering,
working the Dog Pizzeria.
But he wasn’t quite good at anything.
You probably get the idea.
So each year he stood on the doggy pavement,
and each year it only got worse.
He’d wait for a role, or til’ someone asked him to leave.
Whichever of the two came first.
Cut to this year’s preparations,
for the big ol’ dog jamboree.
Just stood there watching as always,
was the ever-downtrodden Mutt Lee.
Hurry! The bossy Borzoi said.
Beginning to get a little bit antsy.
“We don’t have much time til the boss man arrives,
it’s gotta look at least 58% more fancy!”
But something caught the mutt’s eye
in the middle of this year’s rush.
It was the silhouette of something peculiar
behind a poorly-gold-painted bush.
Why, it was a cat come down from Cat Town!
And the cat seemed all out of air.
Wheezing and breathing and just about peeping
a look at the annual fair.
He spotted the curious feline,
and scrunched up his small doggy face
“Curiosity is dangerous for cats.” he thought.
Hence the well-known phrase.
The cat was sick and coughing.
Not particularly robust.
But before he could question their unorthodox lifestyle,
the cat turned into a pile of dust
And before Mutt Lee could bark,
the Dog Broom Pusher was sweeping the lane
and pushed each and every spec of the cat pile
down into the doggy sized drain.
Then suddenly, behind him, a “Psst!”
from the shadows of a dog-sized alley.
“Hey, Hey you! C’mere! C’mon.
Hey, there! Hey you! Hey, pally!”
Following these few excla-mations,
Mutt decided to listen in
to the mysterious whispering dog
that was speaking from the inside of a bin.
“My name is unimportant, they said.
“As is my cape and also my mask.”
But this just confused our dear Mutt Lee,
“But why, if I might just ask?”
It was because they were incognito!
“I must adopt all manner of names.
Daniel the Spaniel, and Holly the Collie,
And a Jack Russell whose first name is James.”
Fitz the Spitz,
and Greta the Setter.
There ain’t nobody that I can’t be!”
“It’s really not hard, just look at my card,
It’s my businessdog spy gua-ran-tee!”
They flicked over their card of business,
hoping to impress the breed.
But in his doggy paw, he didn’t know what he saw,
because no dog knows how to read.
“I don’t know why you got these printed.
They’re useless to all manner of pet.
I mean, why did you get these printed,
when we’re all illiterate?”
“Bah! What do you know” they said,
ruining the established rhyme.
(What do they think they’re doing?
Don’t they know that that’s a crime?)
“I have something to tell you” the dog spy said,
stepping out of the bin.
“It’s of the upmost importance
so you better listen in”.
He pulled himself closer to the other and whispered:
“There’s a plot to blow up the fair”
And, adopting a new French accent,
spoke of a mysterious white Terriér.
His name was Big Boy Tuesday.
He was a terrier, Maltese.
He was white as a sheet, and the nicest to meet
and when you got home he’d jump up at your knees.
“You don’t need to tell me, for Dog’s sake.
I know who that is.
Tuesday is a big boy in Dog Town.
Everyone knows he’s in the biscuit biz”
“His biscuits are not important,
no matter how delicious.
Because he’s plotting a most evil scheme
that’s looking rather pernicious.”
“I don’t know what that means, he said.
And also that rhyme felt somewhat forced!”
Then the spy just stood there blinking,
in a very uncomfortable pause.
After staring for minutes in silence,
“Look over there!” the loud spy said.
And whilst the mutt didn’t move a muscle,
the spy whacked him on the top of his head.
About ten minutes later
up awoke the head-sore scruff.
Firstly he stared but then he declared:
“Well, that was certainly ruff!”
And for his own job security
and being done with our Mutt,
the Dog Clown walked right over
and punched him right in his gut.
Waking again after another while,
With a sore stomach and a sore head.
Mutt Lee wondered to himself
why he bothered getting out of bed.
He noticed a thing on the ground,
(the one he fell on very hard)
it was a small pink piece of paper.
The clown’s sinister calling card.
“If you’re reading this card,
then I gave you a bonk.
Now stay out of comedy or else.
Being unable to read it,
not knowing what it said,
Mutt Lee crumpled it up
and threw it over his head.
Tossing it backwards,
and onto the street.
Along came Broom Push Dog,
with a couple dozen of sweeps.
The mutt looked around for the spy
and spotted them just down the street.
They were currently on a secret stakeout
disguised as a field of wheat.
After all of that palaver,
the street was prepared and clear
for all of the upcoming festivities,
for the biggest event of the year.
Mutt Lee was all alone now
“Now I’m all alone” Mutt Lee said.
So he decided to head off to his dog house,
to retire to his doggy bed.
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