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Poor old Sammy warming his tired bones in the morning sun
the passing car excited him so he forgot his age and tried to run

I got his breakfast ready something easy to chew with an added treat
placing his bowl within easy reach in time he comes to his feet to eat

I stroke his head and I am moved to reflect on the passing of time
In dog years he is as old as dirt surely neither of us are in our prime

Yesterday he could run like a little quarter horse doing what a dog does best
Today he contents him self with short walks, gentle play and plenty of rest

When he barks in his sleep his paws are on the run
 running and barking in his dream just having fun.

He’s a Weimaraner in love with a Great Dane her legs go all the way up
love is blind and he’s out of his league but that would be a beautiful pup

As he guards our home all nobel nosed wearing that doggy grin
I like to think his daydreams are of things that might have been
         
              In Memory of our beloved Samson 
  see related poem: A Man’s best friend is his dog

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