This time of year I often think of the golden books my mother used to read to me. I think of the old poem “Three little kittens have lost their mittens” and think of three cute little puppies Lena is taking such great care of.


“Three little puppies, oh so spry,

Lost their bandanas, oh my, oh my!

They searched high and low,

with their tails wagging slow,

‘Oh where, oh where did our bandanas go?’


Mother Dog said with a stern,

yet loving, glare,

‘What! Lost your bandanas?

You must take care!

You won’t get any treats,

not even a bone,

Until you find your bandanas,

each one of your own!’


So the puppies sniffed here,

and the puppies sniffed there,

Through the garden,

around the chair.

Till at last,

near the gate,

in a happy state,

Each found their bandana –

Oh, isn’t that great!


With their bandanas tied,

looking oh so neat,

Mother Dog smiled,

Now you may have a treat!’

Three little puppies,

their tails wagging high,

Enjoyed their treats under the moonlit sky.”