Don’t think (my Kibble) my love might fail,
If I reject your offered treat –
A scentless biscuit made from kale,
Garlic, and unbleached wheat –
True, my preferred viands tend more
To cluck or moo or bleat,
To come replete with fat and gore;
In short, I favor meat.
So when you seek to line the hutch
With food I’ll quiver for,
Know I’d not love you half so much
Loved I not liver more.
