The Ballad of Benny the Airedale

Oh Benny the Airedale, scruffy and bold,

With whiskers like wire and a heart made of gold.
He pranced through the garden, mud on his feet,
Tracking in chaos with every heartbeat.

He stole all the socks, then claimed them with pride,
Burying treasures the roses would hide.
The mail was his foe—each postman a crime—
He'd bark like a banshee, right on time.

He once chased a squirrel straight over the gate,
Came back three hours later, covered in slate.
A sandwich? He swiped it. A pie? Just a puff—
This wiry rascal could never get enough.

Bath time was war; he’d vanish from sight,
Emerging triumphant at the dead of night.
Yet curl up he would, like a loaf on your bed,
Drooling on pillows and hogging the spread.

Oh Benny, you menace, with that gleam in your eye,
A whirlwind of trouble wrapped in fur gone awry.
But one sloppy kiss, one tail-wagging hail—
And all is forgiven, dear naughty Airedale.!