November/December 2016 Limerick Laughs Winner and Runners-Up

Observing that Christmas is looming,
Our puppy is silently fuming:
“I’ve made it well known
That I wanted a bone,
Yet instead it’s a year of good grooming!”

 

Congratulations to Jeff Foster of San Francisco, California! For his winning limerick, Jeff wins $25 and our gratitude for his witty and entertaining poem describing Charles Kaiser’s 1942 Christmas cover Dog Basket (above). If you’d like to enter the Limerick Laughs Contest for our next issue of The Saturday Evening Post, submit your limerick through our online entry form.

We received a lot of great limericks. Here are some of the other ones that made us smile, in no particular order:

He had wanted a drink with an egg.
For that nog he would constantly beg.
But a basket was gift.
His reaction was swift,
As he smelled it and lifted his leg!
—Ryan Tilley, Altamonte Springs, Florida

This might be some hard news to take,
But Santa Claus made a mistake!
He got me mixed up
With some other pup,
‘Cause I asked for some toys and a steak!
—Guy Pietrobono, Washingtonville, New York

I cannot imagine what drove her
To purchase this present for Rover.
Instead of a treat
Involving some meat,
It seems he shall have a makeover!
—Deborah Jones, Modbury, Devon, Great Britain

There’s a basket that sits ‘neath the tree,
Filled with Christmas gifts all meant for me.
I see powder for fleas
And some bath stuff, but please—
How clean must a young puppy be?
— Steve Moore, Redondo Beach, California

Our holiday gifts are all set,
And our puppy’s we did not forget,
For his Christmas surprise
Is these grooming supplies
To say “Fleas Navidad!” to our pet.
—Dorie Jennings, Penfield, New York

Could someone explain to me, please,
How come you’re giving me these?
‘Cause Santa could see
What’s under our tree…
Now Santa Claus knows I have fleas!
—Guy Pietrobono, Washingtonville, New York

He looks at the gift with disdain.
His dislike for it is quite plain.
He thinks to himself,
‘I’ll get that darn elf
That caused me such sorrow and pain.’
—Angie Gyetvai, Oldcastle, Ontario, Canada

I need to give Santa a clue
As to gifts I’d prefer to eschew.
Perhaps with this glare
He’ll become more aware
Of my dislike for puppy shampoo.
—Paul Desjardins, West Kelowna, British Columbia, Canada

There isn’t a bone in that basket.
I know without having to ask it.
For if it were there
It would perfume the air,
And not even dog wash would mask it.
—Helen Meikle, South West Rocks, New South Wales, Australia

Honorable mention, as chosen by the canine contingent at The Saturday Evening Post:

Woof woof arf, woof woof woof arf, woof.
Grrrr, woof woof, arf growl grr grr woof!
Whine whimper, ahhh-ooooh,
Sigh, whimper, grrr — ooooh!
Grrr WOOF woof grr ARF grrr ARF WOOF!
—Rebekah Hoeft, Redford, Michigan