Skippy the Sausage Thief

I must relay a story, that I’ve been often told

About a very good boy named Skip, who joined our family fold

My mom was in her teens when he came into our world

And that Setter mix was still around when I was just a girl

*

They say he was the cat wrangler, it was his job I’m told

For when the sun went down at night, he’d bring the kitty home

She didn’t want to come indoors, would prefer to catch a mouse

But every eve when darkness came, Skip pushed her in the house

*

He was a good dog overall, never got in too much trouble

But there is one tale that I’ve been told that nearly caused a scuffle

A dinner of sausages, spuds and veggies laid upon the table

Mom called us kids to come and eat as soon as we were able

*

When she turned back to take a look, something wasn’t right

Potatoes and veggies sat neatly on the plates, with not a sausage in sight

How could this have happened, they disappeared so quick

She cast her eyes down to the floor and caught a glimpse of Skip

*

He lay under the table, with a telling look of guilt

Wishing it was possible that he could surely wilt

Wondering if he’d ever be forgiven for his gaff

His fear quickly diminished, when Mom could only laugh

*

He sprung out from his hiding place, a big smile on his face

Licking evidence off his chops, with not an ounce of grace

He jumped up for a welcome hug, his tail spun in a whirl

For even as a sausage thief, he was the best boy in the world