Jen Warman: New Freakin' Mummy


Dear Neglected Dog: We Have Kids Now. I'm Sorry.


dog, kids, neglected dog, life with a dog, kids, family life, farley, poor farley, poem, rant

To the Dog in the family with young children, this poem is for you:


Years ago, when we first brought you home - you were our one and only.

You would sleep on the bed, you had a basket of toys, you were never lonely. 

We would go for walks, in those good old days, for hours on end every day. 

You'd frolick in parks, and sniff dog's butts; your world was full of play. 

You had winter boots and a matching coat, you were always neatly groomed. 

Your favourite thing to do inside was chase us when we vacuumed. 

And even though it was annoying, see, we laughed along the way.

"Oh that silly cute-little-dog! When will he learn to "stay"?"


And then one day, when you were 4 years old, we came home with a "toy."

But this was one you couldn't chew...he was our little boy.

All of the sudden, everything changed - you could see it in our eyes.

All of those "cute little things" you used to do we suddenly despised.

Your alarming bark, it woke the baby, and we were tired as shit.

So instead of smiling and shaking our heads...we sorta completely lost it. (sorry!)

We still took you for walks, but they weren't as long, and soon you got kicked from the bed.

With a baby who fussed and two of us, there wasn't room for your once-groomed head.

Speaking of which, we couldn't see your eyes - you were turning into a mangey beast.

I grabbed the scissors, and did a half-assed job. You could now see, at the very least.


Fast-forward again, another 2 years, we brought another baby home.

Your life from that day has been a crazy mess, at least you're never alone! (right?)

Your fur gets pulled, your water gets spilled, but I consider it an even trade.

You chew all the toys, you bark like a fucker: our life is a circus parade. 

So I'm sorry dog, you've slid down the ranks. But at least you're usually fed.

And even if you sleep downstairs leat you have a bed.


Maybe you can relate to this poem? Now here is a RANT about my Poor Dog Farley. (That's his new name, by the way) 

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