“Four-Legged Girl”

[Verse]
To paraphrase the bard, no ghost need now arise
To tell us that there’s something rotten here.
My Greg has fallen hard; she’s made his heart her prize.
And though I went to Vassar and totally outclass her,
The threat she poses is no less severe.
Forget her outward mongrel shape; there’s worship in her bark and glance.
His ego’s trapped; he can’t escape. Poor slob, he hasn’t got a chance. . . 

[Refrain]
Her hair is ev’rywhere; it’s even in the bedding.
Goodbye to tidiness; hello to shedding.
And there’s an odor; I think it may be squirrel.
My husband’s in love with a four-leggèd girl.

Her whining when we dine precludes all conversation.
Goodbye civility; hello stagnation.
But what does he care? His heart is in a whirl.
My husband’s in love with a four-leggèd girl.

What tricks does she have to make him act so crazy?
What right does he have to bug his boss by acting lazy?
He’d risk what we have and play the callow fellow.
“Alas, what does this gentleman conceive?”
(Act four, scene two, Othello.)

They lark in Central Park; they roam about the city.
He’s checked his intellect; it isn’t pretty.
He thinks she’s perfect; it makes me want to hurl.
My husband’s in love with a four-leggèd girl.

I’ll do my duty and represent my species.
With brains and beauty, I’ll stem the tide of fur and feces,
Depose his cutie, this shallow canine pleaser.
“Cry ‘havoc’ and let slip the dogs of war!”
(Act three, scene one of Caesar.)

When snow begins to blow, he’ll suddenly discover
She’s just an animal; he needs a lover.
And I’ll be ready; I’ll sparkle like a pearl.
But for now, he’s downright loopy.
He might as well be Snoopy!
For now he’s in love . . . 
With a four-leggèd girl.