Analysis of Everything goes through the mutt.

Sunny March day about 8 degrees C.
Guy in our building walks a poodle
Cinnamon, and left unshorn
Lucky for him. The alternative is so faggy.
Clipped short and delicate.
But a male poodle?
Only good to partner with
French hookers by the Seine.
Or Old grandmas who think they are
Adorning some little girl
Somewhere in the family.
Name lost or never known.
Even if the critter barks.
Or shits on the Lawn.
Grandma knows zero about stoop and scoop.
But the kicker part is the Owner:

Well now Francois, what do you
Say to the nice Man?
Remember, last time he gave you a milk bone?
Sit for him now Sweetie, and shake a paw.
Poor emasculated thing (dog or Owner?)

I still do not know anything about this Dude.
Name. Apartment.
Job. Spouse. Kids.
Perhaps he should have walked on
Stone face and silent.
For all that he committed
To engaging.
Big boy hiding behind
A mid-sized Pooch.
Sheesh.