by Judith Viorst

by Judith Viorst
     Mother doesn't want a dog.
     Mother says they smell，
     And never sit when you say sit，
     Or even when you yell.
     And when you come home late at night
     And there is ice and snow，
     You have to go back out because
     The dumb dog has to go.
     Mother doesn't want a dog.
     Mother says they shed，
     And always let the strangers in
     And bark at friends instead，
     And do disgraceful things on rugs，
     And track mud on the floor，
     And flop upon your bed at night
     And snore their doggy snore.
     Mother doesn't want a dog.
     She's making a mistake.
     Because， more than a dog， I think
     She will not want this snake.