by Ivan Bennett Harold came home from work tired He was hungry and right for his tea He would have looked forward to it an' all If he wasn't so sure it would be The same grub as always, the same ev'ry neet Steak and kidney summat or other Was all t'missus made 'im, never a treat - How diff'rent from his very dear mother. But Harold wasn't the complaining type For thirty-odd years he'd been wed Thirty-odd year too of steak and kidney pud Or steak and kidney pie in its stead But today was his fiftieth birthday He'd decided he must have a grouse And speak up for himself as a man for once And not squeak like a little tame mouse "That pudding were lovely my dearest, Steak and kidney if I'm not mistook. I was wond'rin' if you could do summink diff'rent Here, I've got thi a recipie book!" "Complain would yer?" his missus replied with a shout "Is that all of the thanks as I get? There's some as is grateful that 'as to do bout But I'll get thee back don't you fret!" Next day, Mabel, for such was her name, Was out shopping for this, maybe that When she gazed in the pet shop window She often thought she'd like a dog or a cat. In t' window were a dirty great poster 'Doggy Meat half price per case' Revenge began to fester inside her She went in and cut to the chase. "A case of that half price Doggy Meat please" "Yes, Madam, but for that price there'll be a small task That you help us with our little survey, you see, A short questionnaire's all that we ask . "What breed of dog is the doggy food for?" "Oh, I haven't a dog!" replied Mabel I'm serving it up for my husband for tea As he sits at the dining room table!" "You can't give him that!" the pet man did cry "You'll kill him as sure as can be!" "Just watch me," Said Mabel, "I'll give it a try, Tonight's Doggy Meat pudding for tea!" When Harold came home that evening His taste buds were surprised with the flavour It wasn't a taste of the kidney kind But one of a type he could savour For a month it were Doggy Meat pie he enjoyed And Doggy Meat pudding he would eat But toward t'end o' t'month Mabel's supply it ran out So she went back to the shop for his treat. A few months went by, at the pet shop once more Mabel asked for her favourite brand "For your husband again?" enquired t'pet man Mabel said, "No, you don't understand "I now have a nice little doggy, He's really such good company It's a month now since Harold departed Dear Harold has died, don't you see?" "I towd thi' you'd bloody well kill him!" The pet man declared with regret "I said on that first day yer bought some His death were a pretty sure bet!" "It wasn't the pet food what killed him!" Mabel very haughtily said, "He were in't middle o't road trying t'lick his bits When a bus run 'im ower - stone dead!"
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