This short poem was came from a chat after listening to my daughter read. It was a Ruth Miskin text (notice, I don’t say story) called My Dog Ned. It was a joy to hear my daughter read but the book was something else (my opinions on such things have been said previously in a poem, Sownd et owt).
Anyway, I started to rhyme aloud a very silly poem about a dog called Ned for them.
My dog Ned
Has got no head
He has to talk
Using his bum instead