"Well, what about it?" Rufus sniffed, "I really thought our nation
Had left behind such pettiness as dog discrimination.
I can't conceive of any reason why I shouldn't flout
Such rules, so I'm coming in!" "I see you are: get out!"
But Rufus dashed on past the gate. Its keeper, with ill grace,
Pursued him. Rufus led him on a very merry chase.
He felt it rather fun, although he never, on the run,
Found any opportunity to choose a book -- not one!
He bounded to the basement, then he led the chase aloft
Into the upper floors. His foeman flagged, and Rufus scoffed.
"I have the run of Green!" he laughed. "You can't keep up the pace!"
"I can too! You come back, you mutt! You're really out of place!"
But Rufus ran, upsetting carts and bowling over chairs,
And doing other deeds that would necessitate repairs,
Till, somewhat inattentively, he skidded round a bend,
And found to his chagrin that he was trapped in a dead end.
Our hero now was backed into a corner tight indeed,
And he was leashed and pulled outside, and only after freed.
"It isn't fair!" cried Rufus. "Tough!" his foe replied. "Make tracks!
You're finished here! You tracked in mud! You piddled in the stacks!"
Offended, Rufus said "I see you're just a bunch of crooks:
You won't let anyone but human beings check out books!
I'm done with you, you cheats! I'll take my business elsewhere, stat!"
He couldn't read, of course, but then, he hadn't thought of that.
Originally published in SUL News Notes, April 7, 1995.
c 1995, 1996 Fleabonnet Press for the author.