I remember the day I picked you,
With your sweet little puppy dog eyes.
For my heart was searching for love too,
When I looked down and heard your soft cries.
Your brothers and sisters were running,
They were after a fallen clothes peg,
But there was a puppy so stunning
Trying hard to get up on my leg.
Four years it has been since that moment
And I thank God daily for his gift
Each day you give me such enjoyment
Your love has given my heart a lift.
Today I know as clear as can be,
I didn’t pick you; rather you picked me.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Sponsor Shadow Hamilton
Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014
He bites his nails beside me on the bed
so loudly! This strange habit is most grating.
I’d like to throw a pillow at his head,
but he would just continue, not abating.
I’m used to just how vexing he can get,
like when he begs for food that I am eating.
When someone comes to call, he gets upset;
then settles down and gives a gleeful greeting -
Unless the visitor is someone small!
He sits and stares if I pick up a child
then panics if the infant starts to bawl.
I love my doggy though he gets so wild!
Although a naughty child himself is he,
how sweet and trusting is his love for me.
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014
Your dad, a Dachshund once stuck in Chihuahua.
The best of both in you, with that expectant
Confusing carpets for the lawn enigma.
I know….the raining….getting wet….you can’t.
As coldness chills the room, a sheet for you.
The perfect tucking of in, but you moved!
I ponder, just how crazy is my Boo?
The sheet’s thread count too low to be approved?
Your dance in circles, spinning on the floor.
Rewards and treasures known upon the racks.
Induced by meals and that one pantry door.
In such a fury, choking on the snacks.
I know what God’s book says, I’ve searched it whole.
But still, I hope you have a little soul.
Copyright © rob carmack | Year Posted 2014
Poshpaws was our beloved pussy cat
She would clean her fur when sat on the mat
Loved to be stroked, we could tickle her tum
Her purr was loud like the noise from a drum
Large emerald eyes would sparkle and gleam
Her coat so soft with a beautiful sheen
She would lie in the sun from dusk till dawn
Rouse from her dreams with a pussycat yawn
Dad did not like cats - that’s what he would say
But on his lap Poshpaws would always lay
She’d follow my Dad all around the house
Make no noise, be as quiet as a mouse
She slipped away from us aged only ten
Buried in a beautiful shady glen
Contest: I love my Pets
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014
Although two other felines enjoyed their lap time
Atop them the dominating Katy would climb
The lap she didn’t want; she sat right on my face
Katy felt this was her right; she had claimed this space
If I tried to watch TV, her paw closed my eyes
If challenged, with a huffy hiss she would chastise
At mealtime she’d growl, chasing other cats away
How did I come to adopt this demanding stray
At the Humane Society, I passed her cage
She clawed my sleeve and my attention she engaged
Smarter than most cats, Katy was queen of our house
She’d just yawn if we were invaded by a mouse
For twenty-two years, Katy always made me smile
The morning she passed, I felt like I’d lost a child
*Written November 5, 2014, in honor of Katy Cat.
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2014
A green-feathered, yellow head beauty,
that’s my prized pet parakeet, QuiQui.
Even when she’s often crabby and snappy,
she succeeds in making me extremely happy.
QuiQui loves dipping and diving into her bird bath,
and hanging from a perch in her cage, like an expert acrobat.
She also enjoys shaking water from her wet wings,
gazing impishly into her toy mirror wildly shrieking.
Relishing her seeds and red strawberry millet treats,
nonchalantly she ignores my sweet endearments and tweets.
But she shows off her long, elegant, tapered blue tail,
Sitting silently and contentedly unloading quite a poop trail.
And even though QuiQui never utters a single word,
I know she secretly loves me too, my little prima donna bird.
Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2014
Black markings shade the space beneath green eyes,
for Friday night means football in these parts.
The name is Simon, snooping is my art,
my reg'lar seat's beneath two hefty guys.
There's plenty popcorn almost ev'ry time -
bits of sandwiches, chips and pizza parts.
When our team's doing good and scoring yards,
dessert is ice cream -makes my purr-er chime.
I share with Sugar, tablemate tonight.
Before the crowd leaves, we will scamper off.
Mix cats with water; there'll be a riot.
On Friday night, good food is my delight
but we get out before they hose the trough.
Game called for rain? means we're on a diet!
Copyright © Reason A. Poteet | Year Posted 2013
I love my pet - ignore those who would scorn,
Question, my adoration proudly worn.
I can spill my guts freely without fear
Always here to listen yet will never sneer.
Where can you find this type of loyalty?
More than just my pet but like family.
He never does any tricks commanded,
Nor acts in ways to be remanded.
Always quiet, calm, always well behaved.
He never complains in bad weather braved.
Easy to care for, never a worry.
At times so proud my eyes teared and blurry.
Sleeps next to me lightly he is my rock!
Yes I repeat with pride he's my Pet Rock.
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Contest Name: Pets
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014
Both of our baby girls wear a black mask.
They try listen to do what my wife asks.
These gentle giants far out weigh my wife.
The two girls are a large part of her life.
Shelby is the watcher by my wife’s side.
She has been with us since she first cried.
Molly is always there looking up for attention.
She is quick to defend without any mention.
For me these girls are a blessing I adore.
They slobber, pass gas, and they even snore.
Both these girls get me off the ol' hook.
We love them for they give more than a look.
Without trying a dog will fill your heart.
A friend and bond until death do you part.
Edward J. Ebbs - November 23, 2014
Copyright © Edward Ebbs | Year Posted 2014
It is the laziest of all creatures,
It could eat and eat filet all the day long.
Investigative eyes is a feature,
And it will sing to you its forlorn song.
It will avoid you like the plague by day,
Skulking, running, bounding, from room to room.
By night it searches through the halls for its prey,
The hunted will meet its impending doom.
The whisper of whiskers against the door,
Tip-toe, pitter-patter, sneakily creeps.
All at once bounding across the floor,
Whoosh goes the paw across the mouse hole deep.
“Drat!” says the cat, missed the mark once again,
Once more the mouse hunt will have to begin.
Copyright © Hanna Potter | Year Posted 2013
I've had many pets in my life.
Right now two cats and I abide
In my small house the size for us,
But I can't let this pair outside.
They're feral cats that I rescued
When wild coyotes invaded nests.
Wild coyotes on our rich farm land
Have become real cat-nab pests.
A neutered tom and spayed kitty
Have the full range of my loved home.
Their antics keep me entertained
And none of us now care to roam.
They run and play amicably
And gladly share their lives me.
Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2014
A tiny bundle of fur a few weeks old
One little pup who missed siblings and whined
Many memories of you my life holds
A scar from the canned food on which you dined
Running and playing side by side those months
Until you were old enough to learn your job
Dad got my pet to herd the cows on paths
Not with the rich and famous to hobnob
When free we would walk down those dusty roads
Safe was the feeling when in your presence
Free from concern about the wood's heavy loads
Beside me each time truly a pleasance
Queenie so long ago your life ended
My awesome pet left memories splendid
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Friday, November 28, 2014
Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2014
He was born perfect in every way
Until that fateful day
When from a height was dropped
His knee joint fractured, out it had popped
Was just two weeks old a boxer pup
Went to the vets to have it bandaged up
Had a plaster cast, yet he still wanted to play
When cast came off, he limped from that day
Named him Cassidy cos he hopped along
Never a growl or bite though big and strong
Was a perfect pet in every way until cancer struck
Just eight years old he said goodbye with a lick.
He won a rosette in an Obedience Contest
Which shows you don't have to be perfect to be the best.
Penned 6 November 2014
Copyright © SEREN ROBERTS | Year Posted 2014
Each morning, when I first awake;
a daily vigil, I will take.
I arch my back and I stretch out long;
this helps my body to grow strong.
To my box, I take a walk;
release a stench, in lime-like chalk.
I dine in silence, savoring;
the tasty flavors…mouth-watering.
Upon my favorite stool, I sit;
paws tucked beneath, belly and chest.
‘till I transcend, my physical home.
I am a Buddha-cat, you see
And a Bodhisattva, I hope, to be.
Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2015
He lay dying_ slowly did his life pass
Watching others as they moved about room
As his heart failed, fluid filled him enmass
More than his body could handle consume
Legs swollen so that look like muscle man
Stomach swollen sounds as ripe watermelon
Lived a good life years beyond most lifespan
Pain in eyes _ don't really need this athlon
God how can in life some have to suffer much
The depth of their suffering you have shown me
Through the death of this pet whose so soft touch
Touched our hearts to depth in death _ made me see
Instant death_ here; then gone_ suffering little
So sad_ long death slow torture overbattle_
Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2011
As I was checking out the cats on view,
I saw just one who even seemed to care.
She put white paws up to the glass, this Blue
Calico with long, gray orange hair.
Although her nature mattered most to me,
I liked that she was small, with eyes of green.
And nestling in my arms, she proved to be
both gentle and uncommonly serene!
Inside our house, she didn't run or hide
like other cats that we'd brought home before.
She jumped onto the bed and lay beside
us both, then later found things to explore.
Delightful like her name was our new cat,
I couldn't have been happier for that!
For Ryan Jackson's "Animals on your mind... Poetry Contest"
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2011
(For Ollyver, the one and only dog I ever had, a miniature Eskimo)
As shadows fall, he lingers through the night
and looks out to the street, his muzzle pressed
against the windowpane; he sees the light
as I drive up. He lifts a snowy chest.
Excitedly he yaps and leaves the chair
to bound around the corner where he waits
to see the door swing open. He’s aware
I’ll soon appear. He never vacillates,
but leaps into my arms when I come in,
then licks my face and jumps back down again.
Were dogs to smile, he’d wear the biggest grin
as I stoop down to satisfy his yen -
(a tummy rub)! While on his back he lies,
he watches me with pools of love - his eyes!
For Royal's the Furry Friend Poetry Contest
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2011
We rose from primal stew and God’s full blooming tree—
We grew tall, strong and brave – wild as the wind we ran.
Our fear and swiftness kept us safe from plain to sea,
While only one could tame us: the one known as man.
Still the wind was ours, as we flew throughout this earth—
We bore our burdens well with weight upon our back;
We stopped when we were called by that upon our girth—
Pain seared our mouths and sides to tell us what we lack.
And so it’s come to this; that no more we run wild—
We forge common freedoms that only trust will span—
Yet there are those among us free as any child—
But most ride their narrow trails guided still by man.
So hoof on soil we sail; both joined at hip it seems—
The horse and man alone – the open skies our dreams.
Copyright © Glen Enloe | Year Posted 2010
< amidst grass carpet he plays
long ears bushy tail white paws
nibbles bulbs munches away
poor little thing had some flaws
hides hair braided and despaired
didn't stop this little guy
thought to self this wasn't fair
bowed head and started to cry
nectar is what he had sought
on this hopeful days journey
not to be trapped or be caught
or carted off on gurney
Mister Nibbles came to play
In garden's bedding today
Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2011
Death of Bruce, My Friend
Bruce, my puppy died so very , very long ago
buried him in a grave deep beneath the snow
Vanished, the days of tramping wood and field
no more would such joy his countenance yield
Looking back seeing more sweet joy than sad
thank God and childhood for blessings we had
Remembering well the nights he slept in my bed
often climbing up to lay beside my little head
Attempting to crush memories of his sad fate
yet thinking of him often, so often as of late
A hero the time he attacked that poisonous snake
getting snakebit instead for his master's sake
A friend, a love , no greater has a boy ever had
In dog Heaven he awaits and I am so very glad
I had Bruce from age five years old until age
eleven. Six wonderful years, blessed years and
Even now at sixty not a week goes by that I don't
think of him , his loyalty and his faithful love.
I wrote this about twenty years ago. Found it
today in a scrap book , with no date attached but
remember writing it one week before Christmas in 1994.
Found the Christmas card from a dear friend(now departed)
right there with it...
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014
I have a feeling
that my dog is so spoiled
that she doesnt like dog food anymore
apperently she want's filet min yung and lobster
well this isint the surf and turf doggie cafe
get your head outa your furry butt
and eat your alpo
Copyright © Jessica Bowie | Year Posted 2010
In my house there is a monster,
Who’s growing every day,
He’s usually quite happy,
In his own reptilian way.
He often watches TV,
He doesn’t care which side,
He really looks quite funny
When his mouth is open wide.
It cools him off when he is hot
He does it all the time,
Locusts are his favourite treat,
He eats them up just fine,
He munches and he crunches them,
It‘s quite a sight to watch,
But even more fascinating
Is when he makes a catch.
He might be multi-coloured,
With prickles on his tough skin,
His spiky beard can blacken,
And he makes a right old din,
I love my friendly monster,
Not everyone can say,
They have their very own dragon
To play with every day.
Copyright © Nathan Bach | Year Posted 2015
October is the mellowest month
when all the leaves turn flaming red,
and squirrels munch on a fallen nut.
Notice how the days get shorter,
how the chill reminds of Holidays
that yesterday was a thought too far.
People stroll and enjoy the nice weather,
as they watch trees being stripped of their jewels,
but sad as Nature seems, fantasy can go far.
I sit on a park bench as Lassie, the golden retriever,
barks inviting me to hurl the ball as high as I can,
then runs like a tiger to catch it in the festive air.
She returns with the ball pinned within her strong teeth,
and as all the leaves turn flaming red, they fall on my feet.
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2011
who roam the dingy streets as common strays
or lie luxuriously within our laps--
fear not, for milk still flows beyond your days,
as do the silken cream and tuna-snaps.
Too long have dogs alone been known to rise;
tis time you too ascend to lofty gate:
oh being of nimble step and keen of eyes,
you are most qualified for such a fate!
So sleep; itself the problem shall amend,
and benediction will you soon receive.
To paradise you'll fly come tether's end,
or so I independently believe.
To such a notion should the world concur:
cats should in Heaven be allowed to purr!
Copyright © Michael Perriatt | Year Posted 2009
Monster with Demon, Devil and Angel
Fourfold in friendship so spellingly causing
Reasons for living and giving of love
Small sensing sproutings of canine confusion
Gamboling ever for tender collusion
With larger companion traveling souls
The road that is traveled is bettered by having
These tiny companions to lower the hills
Smoothing the roadway by filling the potholes
With layers of free given love without frills
There is mischief asparkle in all of their antics
As even in sleeping their trust is so real
Small dignities pacing the roadway beside us
Reminding us ever with magic we feel
Copyright © Donald Meikle | Year Posted 2006