• There was a young weasel named Bob
    Who belonged to ex-convict mob
    When asked of his crime
    He replied quickly in rhyme
    "Madam, it is merely my job"

    Bob once was my kind, loving pet
    Who was tired of shots from the vet
    Yet it wasn’t the pain
    Or the nurse, oh so vain
    But the tap that he’d never forget

    There was so much I still couldn’t tell
    ‘Bout this rodent I thought I knew well
    So t'was my fitting fate
    That when cleaning a plate
    Bob tapped me so hard that I fell