MUTIK'S EPISTLE 2.0

The anticipated response from Mutik, the dog, is herewith published below. I met Mutik at a rockin' dance party. She was quite offended by the poem I had written for her (see previous post: "Brave Heart"). Her name means "sweet," not brave and she is a "gal" not a "feller." As I was leaving the party, Mutik nuzzled me with her wet nose. I realized later that she had slipped a note into my pocket:

Mutik's Epistle:

I would like to request that you don’t come back.

As a poet, you are quite a hack.

You indicate that I’m a boy

And treat me like I’m just a toy.

Mutik means sweet, not brave you see

You got it wrong, so let me be.

But then again on the other paw

During the party, stuff got raw:

With clamorous sounds some vigorous beasts

Were cackling and gorging on gluttonous feasts.

I ran through the door and saved my brood

(And also managed to scoop some food).

So, I guess I really am quite brave

Like those dogs of yore whose families they save.

Ok, my dear, you have one more chance

Come back next year; perhaps we’ll dance.

Mutik, the dog 8/9/15