A puppy by the name of Pete
Was small and warm and rather sweet
A smile he brought to every face
Who met him and his gentle grace.
He wagged his tail non-stop each day
And never tired of games to play
He never begged and never growled
And in the night-time never howled.
In fact Pete seemed the perfect pet
Until one day, a cat he met,
And not quite knowing what to do,
He chased it for an hour or two.
And now each time he sees a cat,
He stands, when just before he sat,
No longer quiet, calm and cute,
He hurries off in hot pursuit.
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