A tale of woe

Worked from home again today. Got a lot done, too—no distractions, and I felt guilty if I took a break where no one could see me. Good old Midwestern work ethic. Beka laid on the couch most of the day, and she's almost better, but Val, my dear sweet wife, is coming down with something. So far I'm untouched. But none of that is my tale of woe. Thursday I couldn't find my hearing aids. (I got them online from America Hears, and recommend them highly: they work great, excellent price, and outstanding customer service.) But anyway, I hunted high and low. No hearing aids anywhere. I found change in several pockets, but came up otherwise dry. Then today I happened to need to crawl under my desk, and I found one! I carefully searched the whole room, and eventually found one small, damaged piece and the battery. Alas, the dog had eaten it! As you know, I'm reading a book on poetry, and studying the ballad form. Make lemonade, right? Here's my ballad, which I sent to my sales rep at America Hears: I have a tale of woe, my friend. I fear our dog was bad. He pulled my aids right off the desk, And what a time he had! I found the left safe on the floor, The other: not in sight. I hunted high and low today —What's left was just not right. A tiny piece was all I found, And it was badly bent. I'll send it to you if you like; The rest—guess where it went! Our doggie burped and looked ashamed And hung his head quite low. I was upset as you might guess, And told him where to go! And now, my friend, you know my plight— I don't know what to do. So will it do me any good To send it back to you? I'll let you know if it's covered by the warranty.