The fluffballs headed down the slope
Toward the mud
But they didn’t have rubber boots
But they stomped through the mud anyway
And stood around looking unimpressed
With their noses turned up, like they were too sophisticated for mud.
The one in the fur-lined tuxedo ran away
And the fluffiest fluffball went to tattle on him.
The one in the fur-line tuxedo looked left
And looked right.
And asked a grownup where fluffy had gone.
But he wasn’t down in the mud anymore
He was waddling up in the grass.
