Crate n’ Rotate
by Lindsay B. (aka bahamutt99)
I haven’t had much to say lately, so I figured I’d compose my thoughts about breed ownership in a poem.
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Crate n’ Rotate
Plastic crates and doggie gates
All day in and out again
Supervize and separate
Its been this way since God knows when
In the crate when they get fed
Separate rooms throughout the day
In the crate when they go to bed
Tomorrow cycles the same way
In the yard one at a time
Tie-outs, kennels, walk on a leash
Some would scrap at the drop of a dime
It keeps me busy, to say the least
Walk ‘em past with caution and care
Let the young ones play while they get along
Eye contact is as good as a dare
And makes them sing the Pit Bull song
Makes me wonder on those hard days
If other dog owners could handle this strife
Would they balk and run away
If crate and rotate was their life?
What if they couldn’t walk down the street
Without the sting of nasty stares
Or if those strangers that they’d meet
Whisked their children away with angry glares
What if they had no place to live
Because their breed caused doors to close
And they knew that something had to give
When dodging thorns to keep a rose
What is it about this breed
That makes us want to deal with this?
Impulse to help a dog in need
Or are there toxins in a Pit Bull kiss?
I have threatened, heaven forbid
To trade them in for some tiny toy breed
But I couldn’t do it; I only kid
‘Cuz at times you need humor to succeed
So as I shuffle them like a card game
Entrenched in the Pit Bull ownership mess
I think “is it worth it, or am I insane?”
The answer has to be “hell, yes.”