There's a growing conundrum, I feel:

To take back the scraps of a meal

From a bash or a fete

For a family pet--

Is it gauche, or can it be genteel?

A cat and a doggie—once strays,

Whose owners supped at a buffet,

Were lucky to eat

The leftover meat

Taken home from someone's wedding day.

The dog's owner, British, quite ritzy,

Sashayed to the mistress of Mitzi,

And asked to take home

The lamb left on her bone,

With a smile one could call "itsy-bitsy.”

"The dog" mailed "the feline" that night,

With thanks for the succulent bite;

He thanked her profusely,

If somewhat obtusely,

With promises that he would write.

The next evening, at the same table,

At a wedding, both ladies were able,

To sneak home the rest

Of the stuffed chicken breast;

So "Mitzi" sent "Bertie" a cable:

"Do you prefer poultry or lamb?"

He quipped, "Frankly, I don't give a damn!

As long as it's meat,

Not canned food, it's a treat,

But I'm orthodox; I don't eat ham."

Switching to prose, just to catch their breaths, "Bertie" and "Mitzi" began email sparring.

Bertie: Your limericks aren't exactly Pulitzer material.

Mitzi: Neither are your doggerels.

Bertie: Do you think they'll bring anything from the Shul Kiddush this

             Shabbat?  Perhaps she should take a bag just in case, although

             I'm not into herring.

Mitzi:  Every kittush has herring…and gefilte fish.  Will the auf-ruhf* be

             conducted in your mama-loshen?

Bertie: Pity you're a cat…we could have been friends… Your owner 

              Seems like a nice lady.  I hear there are lots of grandchildren always

              coming to your house and cuddling you.   I think I'll write your

              mistress a poem:

                There was a nice lady called Judy,

                Who always is kind and not moody.

                She plays the piana,

                Her food tastes like manna,

                And her children are frequently broody.

Mitzi:  I agree, my dear Bertie, but grouse,

            That she shooed me right out of the house,

            And sent me up-river

            When I ate her chopped liver;

            I daresay, I favor her spouse.

Bertie:  Hey girl, that's really rough;

               I see that you have it tough;

               My life is so cozy,

               It makes me quite dozy,

               And often I go for a shluff.

Mitzi:    I think that my owner's uneasy;

              Snitching food at a feast makes her queasy;

              Is there no internet--

              "Pilfering Etiquette:

               Wasting food versus feeding a kitty."

 Bertie: Last night at the embassy party,

              The food was delicious and hearty;

              She had no bag,

              But I'm one lucky pup—

              She brought me the scraps in a cup.

Mitzi: There was a young woman named Gloria,

            Good prose sent her into euphoria;

             Her star's on the rise,

             She may yet win a prize—

             A week at the Waldorf Astoria.

Mitzi: These poems may lead us to fame;

              We've discovered a funny new game;

              Alas, our computer's

              More precious than pewter

              And other activities tame.

Bertie: Dear Mitzi I feel this must cease

I fear it might turn into sleaze

But one thing we've shown

As our poems we hone

That cats and dogs can live in peace.

At this point, both "Bertie" and "Mitzi" decided to stop emailing because their limericks were becoming addictive.  "Bertie" couldn't sleep at night thinking up responses, and "Mitzi" had stopped catching mice.

As for whether it's polite to recycle wedding scraps for felines or canines, it's still, so to speak, up for grabs.

Judy Shapiro (Mitzi )                                                   

Gloria Deutsch (Bertie)

*auf-ruhf: the Shabbat before or after the wedding where the groom is called up in Shul to recite a blessing over the Haftorah portion.  There is often a small Kiddush following services.