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.
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