Affectionately dedicated to Marge and Al

I come home the other day.  The wife was in the kitchen.
I saw that she was playin' with this funny bit of stitchin'.
She sez to me, "Here, hold this, hon'; I'll go and fetch the bird."
This here is what she give me.  Now don't it look absurd?

While you try to figger out just what it is you see,
I'll go ahead and tell ya what I thought that it might be:
I thought it was a little hat that one puts on in the Spring
'N wears while prominadin'.  "Ain't that jes' the thing?"

Or mebbe it's a fancy part of cuttin' doctors' gear
That keeps' their germs from spreadin' in the atmosphere.
Then my imagination cried out, "Hey could it be a jock?"
Waal, no, I thought; it's away too small, even for a sock.

Perhaps it could be somethin' that's worn at burlesque shows.
But it is just a single, and it hasn't any bows.
So, dear folks, I'll spill the beans.   I'll tell ya what it is--
It's a diaper fer a chicken fer when it does its biz.

A nappie that a chicken wears when outside of its coop.
A proper little catch-all to collect the chicken's poop
We got this rooster that we've raised from an egg.
It's hard fer us to shut him out when that rooster starts to beg.

He likes to be inside with us, but we've found it' ain't no joke
We ain't got him trained yet.  He ain't reliably housebroke.
So we bought this chicken diaper with instructions how to use
The little garment on our bird to cover its caboose.

We've achieved both peace and quiet; our neighbors never squawk.
Our rooster pops no poopies when we take him fer a walk.
'N goin' barefoot in our home jest don't fret us anymore.
No longer do we worry 'bout surprises on the floor.

We're sleepin' warm and snuggly, now that all is done and said.
'Cause we kin cuddle safely with our rooster in our bed.
But we've got a brand new problem - this ain't no balderdash -
Our little indoor bantam has a case of diaper rash!

Used with the kind permission of  Dr. Kenneth Gardner, Cowboy Poet