I hope that you’ll believe me but you probably will not.
I have a dog and she has been smoking all of my pot.
She’s my doggy and I do love her.
But I can’t get high because of her.
My money has been wasted because of all of the weed that she stole.
I hide my joints but she finds them and smokes every one that I roll.
Some people call me a nut, they think a straight jacket is what I need.
Others think that the dope dealer spiked my weed.
But I’m not crazy, my dog really does smoke my grass.
I’m very angry and I’m on the verge of kicking her ass.
If you’re looking for a free dog, I’ll gladly give you this stupid bitch.
But if you smoke pot, you’ll lose money so you’d better be rich.
This is a fictional poem.