Jumped when master said,
Wagged when master sighed
Moaned when master cried
So loyal was he
He barked at master's friends
bit all master's foes
Warmed toes,
and received love
from master not
perhaps it was hate
or childish contempt
for when the day came
with a curse
and a heavy boot
"good old"
became filthy mut
poor old boy,
staggers, rabid and sick
in a world so cold and thick
waiting for the catcher
or the old man's stick
to ease his heavy heart,
rest his battered body
good old dog
©davyvivaldi 2013
©davyvivaldi 2013
