Oh Lucy, my Dane
Why must thou protest
Every time I bathe thee?
Is it fear of water
Or soap in thy eyes?
Or perhaps you simply hate me.
But once in the tub
Thou is quite calm
And without much fight.
Until after I rinse you
And you leap out the tub
As if a bird in flight!
Wet and dripping as you are
I try to cover you
With a towel dry.
But alas, thy strength
Is that of twelve dogs
And you escape my pry.
Shake as thou might
The walls and myself
Are covered in thy rain.
If only thou knew
As I laugh at thy goofiness
Thou could never cause me pain.
Now quiet and content
Dreaming of cats and cheese
You lie upon thy bed.
It is now time for sleep
And with a gentle touch
I kiss thy sweet and soft head.
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