How bad could this dog’s bite be, thought the courier  
As he rang the door’s bell, stood at the barrier
The mosaic is pixelated, I won’t know
Frenzied mutt or skittish stray, ’til we’re toe to toe

Our trade sometimes takes courage, above and beyond
That’s why we’re called male men, so all can correspond
Canine fiends is what I say, not this man’s best friend
Eager to tear my tunic and feast on rear end

Time to find out whether Pompeii’s poet is pompous  
No horrendous hound in sight, still best be cautious
On the second ring promptly the master himself
Cracks the door, artsy types are eccentric, what else

Today is a lucky day, hand over the scroll
Save parts of my anatomy my other goal
Fear not, my good man, said the poet, alas no dogue
A bone from his day’s pound of flesh as epilogue

Now in his stead I have only a placid pug
The messenger was now relieved and feeling smug
He then looked up and thought: I avoided peril
Only to see the whole city meet the devil

Up goes the volcano, the joke’s on all of us
To think that for a dog warning I made a fuss
Neither the poet nor the mail man made history
Why the pooch is remembered is a mystery