
The next morn, children asked, “Is he dead?”,
Stew forced open his eyes, felt like lead,
Once he’d taken quick peek,
He’d be best left asleep,
And they quickly crashed shut, “Ooh, my head.”
.
This limerick may not make much sense on its own, but is the latest in a series. The others may be found here.
Oh my god, a talking dog!
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this is a dog who drinks for England! A phrase or two – no problem!
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Poor Stew 😕
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Hmmm… sympathy for hangover. There’s a first!
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He’s a whippet not a Great Dane 😁
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