Leroy’s a legend with silky strut,
Tail like a fan and zero rut.
He’s bigger than Callie, but not by much—
Just enough to say, “Yeah, I run this hutch.”
He walks like jazz in a velvet suit,
Not too slow, just smooth and cute.
He scans the path with that wise-dog look,
Like he’s halfway through a mystery book.
Now Callie—oh boy—he’s a different theme,
Powered by sass and a squeaky dream.
His tongue’s always out, a pink little tag,
Like a party invite in a furry swag bag.
He’s older, sure, but don’t you blink—
He’ll rip your plush in a second flat—clink!
With toys he’s ruthless, shows no grace—
Soft limbs flying all over the place.
But here’s the twist, now lean in tight:
Callie sees a giant dog and shouts, “LET’S FIGHT!”
No fear. No pause. Just wild audacity,
Charging like he’s late for canine capacity.
And Leroy? Cool. Calm. Not phased.
Unless your vibes are weirdly glazed.
Then he’ll bark like, “Sir, get out,”
Tail on point, no trace of doubt.
Leroy enjoys the maps, the slow stroll lore,
Each sniff, a chapter. Each breeze, a score.
While Callie’s just happy to be on the track,
Trotting with joy and not looking back.
Together they roam with a circle of chums,
Up foresty trails where adventure hums.
Through Whale Back Rock and leafy clove,
They march with might and a tail-wag trove.
Their human? A gem. A joy on the go,
Chatting with smiles and a hello-glow.
She leads like sunshine, firm yet sweet—
A leash in her hand, and pep in her feet.
Callie’s the rebel, Leroy’s the vibe,
One brings the thunder, one brings the tribe.
They balance the madness like yin and woof—
Tiny in size but legends in hoof.
So if you’re up in Inwood town,
And see two floofs just laying it down—
Step aside, let the strut parade roll,
Two dogs, one mission: total patrol.
From plushy wrecks to broomstick foes,
They rule the park like tiny heroes.
Leroy & Callie—mayhem and charm,
Wrapped in fur and four-paw alarm.