When I’m out on my walkies,

I like to suddenly stop.

My paws go in all directions,

It puts Mum and Dad on the hop!

It may be at a junction,

Do I want to go t’other way?

Can I choose my own route?

Well, now and again, I may.

Sometimes they just stand there,

Hoping I’ll see sense.

Other times they pick me up,

Well, hey, I’m not that dense.

I don’t mind a little carry,

If it lights their candle.

Then I’ll choose to go their way.

I’m not so hard to handle!