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My Friend of Comfort

Dedicated for my true friend, Pokey the puppy I have a friend tempered in anxiousness of speed indeed- He runs, jumps, and adjusts to my manner uncannily- A good friend is he who waits, in time and fate, for me in kind patience- His intent, at times, as I see and unbeknownst to him, is non other than to be fed- I watch him and he I through our anthropomorphic conscientious percipience- I ask myself, as always I always do, if he has slight of sentience in self- My friends form of expression queerly questions my countenance in sensibility- Which may or may not have some truth, for his truth is held in stealth- I have over the years attempted to lessen him in art of literature- Although at times he seems to acknowledge this by peeing on our praised favorites- By all means I consider him more an emotional compartan compared to my kind- He never regrets or resents me for unfairly failing notice to my dear friend- Maybe he ponders events by incertitude, though expressions neither deny or confirm- Though his actions always denotes incentive aspects of verbs, he chooses not to read I infer a conclusion that we only differ in level of magnitude of consciousness- For I know that he knows that I know he has some level of meta-cognition By Mark Miller, An inner examination into our art of artificial selection.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

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Date: 8/11/2018 1:56:00 PM
Hello Mark Miller, my goddaughter's dog Bailey was put down July 30th. She was sick with cancer. The whole family gathered around the bed she laid upon, and said our last good-byes. Everyone cried. I know what it is like to lose a dog. Dogs are part of our family and we love them. So they will always be remembered. Have a nice day my friend.
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De Beaulieu Avatar
Darlene De Beaulieu
Date: 8/13/2018 5:56:00 PM
We always remember the love we have for the pets we lost. I do not like the way your ex's treated the dog.Yes this poem is so sad. Ifelt your tears as I read this poem. Have a nice evening my friend.
Date: 3/22/2018 5:33:00 PM
I was my dogs OB/GYN and puled out hour pups. As I was looking for the fourth he died, cold composure. He was my best friend and I sat with him for hours. And no matter what anyone says I know we both loved each other. My ex-wife murdered him after the divorce but I'll be dammed if my Pokey will be forgotten. The saddest poem I have ever wrote.
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