"Oh," the dog said, tilting up its nose,
"I don’t like the way that wind blows,
Yet my people still frolic, while I'm well aware
It'll soon be like swimming in the Delaware.
Now come the thunderclaps ‒ the voice of Jove
Warning us to leave our woodland grove!
It appears I must become Odysseus
Since none of us is amphibious.
Pick up that hamper, forget the grape!
We must run if we are to escape!
Follow me, follow me, as quick as you can
Safety lies yonder, in the minivan!"