One of my good friends had a standard poodle named Musetta. Musetta was certainly an appropriate name for this beige Standard poodle as her owner was a fan of opera. Musetta lived in St. Petersburg, Florida, with her owner and traveled with him wherever he went, even flying once to Seattle, Washington. Musetta’s aura was perfect for St. Petersburg high society, and she lived up to her “poodular” responsibilities well, maintaining an air of decorum befitting her name and pedigree.
After years of residence in Florida, the owner decided to pull up roots and to move to North Carolina. It took a while but it eventually became evident that Musetta was being affected by the different culture in which she found herself. St. Petersburg, Florida, and Blowing Rock, North Carolina, are about as diverse as two cities could be, and it rubbed off on Musetta.
The Ballad of Musetta
There once was a poodle whose name was Musetta;
And everything she did, she did it much better
Than other like canines, whose buns she ignored,
Thus letting them know she was totally bored;
Her master was dignified, handsome, and trim,
And she was subservient always to him.
She licked him and kissed him, but never uncouthly,
And he, in return, would walk with her aloofly.
Her little balled tail would stand up so distinctly
And they would chit chat with each other succinctly.
But then, after much thought, the master decided
To move to a place where just plain folks resided.
And people there spoke and said, Howdy, good day,”
Confusing Musetta, who spoke just francais.
At first she despaired and felt all too rejected
When none of the canines to her genuflected;
Her coat of fine fur clipped and groomed oh so so ly
Began to turn this way and that, roly poly.
And little by little her growl turned to grawl,
And she started to greet country mutts with “Hi, y’all.”
Till soon no one recognized her as Musetta
But called her her new country name of Mule Etta.
Today you can see her a’romp in the fields
Up there in the mountains where she always steals
The show from the other old mutts she has met,
Who once in a while still remember Musette.