Sense Sonnet - Tickler

Bo and the Hillary Red Line

The Prez now meets with Hillary
In the Oval Office. I growl.
"Psst, Bo," the Prez whispers to me
"You don't like her, but don't be foul."
"She's my guest, so don't cross the line."
The Prez draws one around her, red.
I listen to Hillary whine
That she's afraid that I might shed,
And hairy up her pink pants suit.
That's about all that I can take.
To do a dirty does compute.
I mean what dif'rence does it make?

Can't degrade or deter this mutt.
I cross that line and bite her butt.