I was tired of my puppy,
He always chewed on my things
And there’s nothing worse in the morning,
Than stepping in dog droppings.
So I took him to the shelter
And thought I’d get a cat instead.
But on their bulletin,
There was an ad that I read…

“If you like furry holbytlas…
And foot hair stuck in your drain.
Come to the Shire,
And visit Bag End.
I hope you have lots of mushrooms.
As that’s what they like to eat.
You might also need a big comb,
For all that hair on their feet.”

The shelter lady asked me
“ Are you donating that pet?”
I felt kind of bad,
But I replied “You bet!”
Before I left the building,
I took down that ad.
I wrote a reply…
Here is what I said.

“Yes I like furry holbytlas…
And don’t mind hair in my drain.
Not sure how to get to the Shire,
But I’ll try in vain.
I can buy lots of mushrooms
From the market down the street.
I’ll buy the comb but,
They have to brush their own feet.”

I waited forever
For the author to reply.
I was beginning to think
That it all was a prank.
Then there was a ring off the doorbell,
And strange little voice
Can you believe that,
The caller was Frodo?

“So you like furry holbytlas?
Don’t mind foot hair in your drain?
Never mind visiting the Shire,
Because I came right away.
Do you have any mushrooms?
I’m hungry from my trek.
And I can comb out my foot hair,
But you’ll have to comb my back.”

“I don’t want a holbytla!
And we have bad pipes anyway.
Go back to the Shire.
I’m sure Sam’s lonely.
The market’s fresh outta mushrooms…
Won’t have till next week.
You should probably leave now, before I call the police.”