"Let sleeping dogs lie", my brother would say,

A drunken bully - we fought every day.

He got his dog after drowning my cat,

How I wished the swine dead for doing that.

 

But its boastful master would often say

His dog would follow him and obey,

Too vain to think - too vain to see

The gentle dog grew fond of me.

 

The stink of drink fouled my brother's breath,

Its stench lodged in my mind like death.

In our father's eyes he could do no wrong

But he'd drunk himself to death before long.

 

Then one day things came to a head,

My brother was found dead in bed.

"Smothered while drunk by his own duvet"

The official police report would say.

 

But I'd found the dog in its resting place,

Sprawled right across my brother's face.

When I appeared it rose readily from its rest,

While breath barely lifted my brother's chest.

 

"We know what you did", do I hear you say?

"You replaced the dog with your brother's duvet".

In truth you're quite right, and here's my reply:

There's a time and place to let sleeping dogs lie.

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