The humans they are still asleep,
So no noise I make. Not a peep!
Early hours of the morning,
Softly as the light is dawning.
Quietly off the bed I creep,
Down the ramp I slowly sneak.
There I settle on the floor,
And start to lick the first of four.
Paw number one I start to lick.
Which paw next? It’s hard to pick.
Three more to go. But first this one.
Lots of licking, till it’s done.
Then to paw number two,
With the same treatment it is due.
Ancient wolves washed after the kill,
In my DNA, they are still.
Telling me to wash my feet,
*Before* the meal I’m yet to eat!
Paws three and four, still to be done,
But before then, it’s back to number one.
I seem to think I missed a bit,
So I start again. I never quit.
Stirring now, the human is awake.
Slurping noises, more than she can take.
“Stacy! Enough! Go to bed!”
Suddenly the human said.
My dirty feet will have to wait,
Because licking noises, the humans hate.
But in the early morning gloom,
A sudden thought, “Grandma’s room!”