Chicken Little looked up at me and said, "The sky is broken and is falling down."
I looked at chicken little and said, "you keep stopping and we may drown!"

Chicken Little heard a thunderous report and looked at me and then the sky.
I looked at chicken little, shaking so and said, "its just a garbage can moved by a guy."

Chicken Little looked at the dark, dark clouds hanging nigh.  Then once again at me.
I glanced her way and said "well, you are the one that said you had to ***."

Chicken Little walked quickly, nose to the wet grassy ground, stopped to ***, hurried.
I saw her heading for the door leash in my hand, her bladder empty, she almost ran, worried.

There was no thunder this night, the clay does not let the water drain, so fast, puddles
muddle, where to step without a splash, but Chicken Little the dog can rest at last.

We came in and closed the door, leash hung in place and coats left to dry,
with a shake, from the fur covered head to her tail, loosing water every where,
'why, she was total dog again,' I quietly mused, 'more than Chicken Little ever were.'