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