by S.D. Smith, illustrated by Aedan Peterson
There once was a dog whose full name was “Bear,”
And a bear whose full name was “Dog,”
On one side of the forest, a log fell on Bear,
On the other, Dog fell on a log.
Dog hibernated, as all bears will do,
And they wisely let sleeping Bear lie,
Bear chewed on bones, but Dog ate four people,
Thus Dog was unbearably wide.
If it seems too painful, to think of ole’ Dog,
Eating four people, then belching,
Know none were nice and all had once eaten,
Bear meat –and got second helpings!
Bear had himself, never eaten a man,
Though one said, “You smell like a skunk!”
He then kicked Bear, but Bear did not eat him,
Only chewed a quite generous chunk.
So, these two had had run-ins with humans,
And humans had run in to them,
But again, they had never, ever once met and,
That’s usually where stories begin.
It might begin with them shaking hands,
And hitting it off from the start,
But neither Bear, nor Dog, even had hands!
And Bear hated “shake” from the heart.
Once a railway man had taught Bear to “shake,”
To “roll over” and “play dead” for groups,
But that day on the train, when commanded, “Obey!”
Bear bit him upon on his caboose.
Dog, likewise, had quite a career,
He had once been a great circus bear.
But he drew the line and abandoned the job,
When they made him wear pink underwear!
So Dog was a bear and yes, Bear was a dog,
And Dog, the bear, could be scary,
But Bear the dog, wasn’t nearly as doggy,
As Dog was so splendidly beary.
If they ever met, but didn’t ever get to–
“My name is,” –to the point where you share it.
I think an oddness would dog Bear all his days,
And that Dog couldn’t possibly bear it.