Hairy

I was sick of shaving every day,
So I merely stopped,
No more razors and shaving cream,
Needed when we shopped.
The whiskers reveled in their freedom,
Living on easy street,
They blossomed and accelerated,
Now they reach down to my feet.
I’ve given up wearing clothes,
Them you could not see,
Now you can’t differentiate,
Between a St Bernard and me.
Cousin It had nothing on,
The Furry One that is me,
I rustle when the wind blows,
In a whispering symphony.
I deposit hair wherever I go,
And somewhat like a snail,
You can tell where I have been,
Because I leave a trail,
But although I have saved some money,
On shaving and hair cuts too,
What I’ve saved has then been spent,
On conditioner and shampoo.