My brave knight is but a simple peasant.

Swift he is not upon the earthen ground.

The chambers he keeps aren’t very pleasant.

His stomach is more than a little round.

He snoozes during the daylight hours;

He often forgets the tasks of the day.

With just the scent of danger he cowers.

Only nonsense he conjures up to say.

A new born baby can do more than he;

I must cater to all his wants and needs.

I care for him out of true love, you see.

Despite what I say it is he who leads.

Of his love, I admit, I am a hog.

Is it really a crime to love your dog?