The Spy

The Lonely Meatball

One Tuesday, as I lay in bed,

about to go to sleep,

I heard a voice that called my name,

a voice quite soft and deep.

“Hey, Pete,” it said, “are you awake?

I have to go outside.”

I was so startled by the voice,

my impulse was to hide.

But there before me was my dog,

two inches from my nose.

It was so strange to hear him talk,

I couldn’t move — I froze.

“Please let me out so I don’t pee

right on your bedroom floor.”

He looked so desperate, I got up,

and we rushed to the door.

After that, Butch talked a lot;

our set-up was quite neat.

He spied on people close to me —

one secret earned one treat.

And so I found out many things

about my brother, Brad,

and many of those things, I know,

sure made him look quite bad.

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