T'was the day after Thanksgiving,
And all through my loo,
Nothing was moving,
I was packed too tightly into...
My house with my blankies
all wrapped 'roun my snout,
in hopes that more turkey
would still be enroute...
And evn' though it's a squeeze
from much too much to eat,
I hear it's the American way,
Aren't the holidays "sweet"!
I'll lay here for days,
and dream of the past,
of the feast of a lifetime,
and the all-star cast...
Of turkey and stuffing,
and sweet candied yams,
pie, bisquits and gravy,
headed straight for my hams.
My cholesterol is feverish,
my blood pressure is high,
But I never seem to worry,
My humans taught we why.
They do it on holidays,
and ne'er think a thing,
Of stuffing their faces,
nor consequences it'll bring.
And then when it's over,
THE DIET! OH PIGGERS!
Starving, sweating, and exercising
on those thingamajiggers.
But why do we keep doing this?
Is it just to prepare
for the next holiday feast
around a corner, somewhere?
Excuses are many
the reason I'll still weigh the same,
Year in and year out,
'til I get as big as a mainframe.
So my prayer will just be,
simply to forever fit in my loo,
with blankies to surround me,
till next holiday rendevous.
