I have to admit, I've been caught squatting outdoors
It was in a garden indeed, however it was not in yours
Where did he come from, this roaring Belgian blue?
And what had I done, I did not have a clue
Toon a man so frustrated, yet seemingly sweet
I could not turn away, ignore or misstreat
Instead I decided, I need to be smart
And play a little game, with the bully tart
An invitation he got, too good to refuse
Spiced up with a twist, just to confuse
A bottle of Bowmore, was all it took
then he swallowed nicely, the bait on my hook
There we were, with nothing else to do
But to straighten out, what was false and what was true
For although a Belgian blue is rarely seen in a pool
A good swim, will make him cool
/Cecilia
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