Once a Dog

Once a dog my dog has has been dead a long time now but I think of her every day. I have to give her eternal life dogs have no heaven or a saint by the gate asking: have been a good dog and eat the leftovers the humans gave you? Woof. I big lie of, course; she slept on the sofa when I went to bed. What about the hairs on the couch, she looked another way as to say, nothing to do with me. Fifteen years we had together she spoiled me rotten. Took me for walks in the woods kept me fit a fine figure of a man, she could be proud of.