Author's Note: A ridiculous little poem. I do not have a dog named Todd. Acutally, I do not, at all, have a dog. But I do have a brother, a model for this imbecile in this poem.


Dog is god spelt backwards,

Said I one day.

Therefore you should (must) be nice to Todd today.

No way!

Shouted that imbecile brother of mine.

I'll only be nice if you help me with this homework that's wrecking my mind.

I shook my head in desperation,

Cuddling the poor dog with (slight) frustration.

Dog is spelt g-o-d backwards,

And g-o-d reads as god forwards.

If Todd is a god,

You should therefore have good sense not to hoard

You anger against this seemingly weak yet powerful dog.

That brother remained unconvinced,

And continued with his unrestrained

Demonstration of control over

That poor little dog (like a bulldozer).

So I did what I always do (most naturally),

And slammed my fist into that (horrible) bugger forcibly.

And as he lay groaning

On the floor with those bright yellow patterning,

I smiled sweetly,

Fingering his cheek (not so gently).

Now do you understand in your grassy brain with huge lag,

When I say that Todd is a god not a punch bag?

That (annoying) fool nodded his head

And almost landed in a faint dead,

And I grinned again for I knew he was going to be late,

For his first (and hopefully only) date.

Dog is god spelt backwards.

And as such that proves that dogs are gods' forwards.

Dogs are gods.

But gods might not all be dogs.

That makes sense to me since dogs are men's best friend,

More so true now that they control more than they befriend.

And here's where I'll end.

Told you it was nutty! Hope you liked it:D

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