a poem about a useful christmas gift

I can't even begin to describe this poem except to say you may never look at regifting the same way again.

A Classic
Dan Damon was a goodly dog,
A dog of reddish hue,
So long of limb, so long of hair,
And nothing much to do.
Upon my kitchen shelf there lay
A useless, idle cake;

A bar of dog soap, dark and brown,
I kept for old times sake.

I had a little dachshund once,
She of the sausage type; 

I bought the dog soap just for her,
But the time was never ripe
To give a bath, 'twas extra work,
I put it off each day;
The dog soap lay a useless thing,
Then Fraulein ran away.

I hunted high, I hunted low,
And hoped for her return, 

But every time that shelf I'd dust,
A lesson I would learn. 

That bar of soap was in my way;
The dachshund ne'er came back. 

To whom could I ever give that cake
Wrapped in a paper sack?

But when Dan Damon came along,
I viewed his lengthy hair. 

How many baths that dog would need;
The dog soap should go there. 

'Twas nearing fast, the Christmas-tide;
That bar of soap I'd send, 

Wrapped up in tissue, nice and fine,
Tied with ribbon at each end.

And now I dust my shelf in peace,
With nothing in the way.
Dan Damon's mistress, she can use
That dog soap every day.

Sarah Simons Reese, The Little Poem Book (Los Angeles: Bauer-Peterman Company, 1920), p. 48-9