I walk in to the vets,
& he says unto me
"Hello Miss Allard,
What may your problem be?"
I shift and look uncomfortable,
It really isn't right,
I'm clutching three pet carriers ever so tight.
"Well Mr Vet, you see,
I think there's a problem with Cleo, Patch & Charlie.
Their faces have all grown,
& I don't think this condition is known ...
But when you pull their tails,
A Jammy dodger prevails!
He looks at me like I'm mad,
& I see him snigger.
"Honestly, Mr Vet -
I am not a fibber!"
So he asks to see the cats,
He agrees their faces are fat.
He touches Cleo's tail
& has another snigger,
But little does he realise,
He's pulled the Jammy dodger trigger!
Biscuits fly right and left,
A nurse walks in and she's quite bereft,
When a Jammy Dodger knocks off her head!
Tell me Mr Vet - do you believe me now?
The vet wipes sweat from his brow.
"Yes Miss Allard, I can see you're right. Give them these pills three times a day, surely then the problem will go away."
But I'm back at the vets three weeks later,
No Mr vet, the condition has not gone,
But would you like a bourbon?!
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