Of course the bride’s dog came to the wedding
and was allotted a chair at the top table
at which he sat with a gloomy expression
and a chewed satin bow.
The groom fed him morsels of pheasant —
laughing rather theatrically
when his finger was nipped
and the blood dyed his table napkin
a shade to match the azaleas.
A honeymoon is no time for
blood poisoning. Surely it was sunstroke
or an allergy to the spiky local fish?
Excitedly aghast, the wedding guests
re-assembled for the funeral.
The dog was left at home
but he didn’t seem to mind.
The post Love-lies-bleeding appeared first on The Spectator.
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