Cuddle Hymn of My Greyhound Republic

Mine eyes look on the cuteness of the puppy I call Fabes.
He may only have three legs but he’s a magnet for the babes.
His willy is pathetic; he has no chance of getting laid,
but hope keeps hopping on.

Faby Baby, he’s my puppy.
Squirmy like a hyper guppy.
Faby Baby, he’s my puppy.
Our love keeps hopping on.

image from https://ihatetoast.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/6a00d8341c586553ef01543469de78970c.jpg

I have seen my lovely Omo nestled in his bed at night.
He is old, and he is achy, but the love in him burns bright.
I like to hide his ears to make a ghost that likes a fright
and put pretty pink stuff on.

Homey Omo, he’s my old man
A life of cuddles, that is his plan.
Homey Omo, he’s my old man.
Our love keeps snuggling on

image from https://ihatetoast.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/6a00d8341c586553ef015390965b33970b.jpg

8 thoughts on “Cuddle Hymn of My Greyhound Republic

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