As a child I had a book of poems. One was called The Puglim. I know the entire poem but not the author. The poem begins:(posted 9112 days ago)The Puglim knew that he'd never be pretty No grace like the deer no fur like the kitty Had Puglim
He didn't feel proud at the sound of his bells since the lion roared louder with the smallest of yells Poor Puglim
One day, as he lay, thinking beautiful things, His rattles clack-clacked, his bells rang out dings........