VETERINARY student and avid reader of The Irish Field Sarah penned a poem on worming from the unusual viewpoint of the worm itself.
A memoir for my eggs
It’s so good to be here in Chester’s tum-tum,
But now my eggies are making him rather glum.
I’ve had a nice time visiting gut to the great stomach line,
Little ulcers have peeped up, tiny holes below me.
Could it be poorly-made tea, the bad hay from Ms D?
The black to green hay has made our host jolly
But he then ate some straw which was yummy like a lolly.
He then had some bunnies he just couldn’t relieve
So “Out!” said Pip, “He really must leave!”
Some people took care of him in UCD that night,
They jabbed him and poked him and gave him a fright.
They looked for big ulcers and fluid in his gut,
To say that he was stressed and horse shows must be cut.
“BUT BUT!”
A wise girl called out to the vet with bottom most wide,
“He’s not a show pony, just listen” she sighed.
He’s simply a pet with puppy dog eyes
Who feels out of sync.
He can’t pass his dinner of chicken pot pies
And those pesky unborn flies
Who happened to munch from the little forage that remained
To gather lots of buggies from manure and botched silage untamed
He’s almost home now, just one more big test.
To eat some food and properly digest.
He doesn’t like the bedside vet, and neither does his mummy,
so he stops falling and pawing at his poor tummy.
But thank god they helped they did their very best for Chester,
To fix a mistake a blonde yuppie allowed fester.
So us parasites have sadly received an eviction,
To find a new host or some open wound affliction.
We can’t stay in Chester he has things to do
But first a big pooh
Perhaps a bunnie on the loo
There’s several more after this one too!
Two weeks we’ve been told from the vet who’s quite cold
We’re happy enough and so is the chesty
to be away from the blonde who’s temper grew testy.
So Sarie and Chester are finally free from all the Cray Z,
They don’t steal tack, Pixie the dog or even a horse,
Just hearts, apples and moments of course.