But I can't even blow down the house made of straw,
For the straw's full of dust like you find in the attic,
And my vet has told me that I am asthmatic.
So I huff and I puff,
and I puff and I huff,
but my wolf whistle puffing,
is never enough.
So you see, in this tale, I am misunderstood,
But I've jaws, and I've claws good for Red Riding Hood,
And the Three Little Pigs are not part of my plan,
Coz I hate eating pork...
But I love eating gran!
Poem © 2013 Alex Craggs
Illustration © 2013 Bridget Strevens-Marzo