Poetry
Monday, the old dog said that a crumb would do
Then On Tuesday the old dog asked me to make it two
Wednesday, the old dog said he'd prefer to have fish
And not on paper - he'd rather a dish!
On Thursday, the old dog said it was cold out there
So what about letting him sleep on a chair
By Friday the old dog made it perfectly clear
That he was planning to live in HERE
On Saturday night he took half my bed
And woke me up early to get himself fed
Today we'll have chicken because it is Sunday
I wonder what old dog will enjoy eating on Monday
Author: Unknown
Source: Public Domain Archives of Dog Poems
One by one, they file past my cage
Too old, too worn, too broken, no way
Way past his time, he can't run and play
Then they shake their heads slowly and go on their way
A little old man, arthritic and sore
It seems I am not wanted anymore
I once had a home, I once had a bed
A place that was warm, and where I was fed
Now my muzzle is grey, and my eyes slowly fail
Who wants a dog so old and so frail?
My family decided I didn't belong
I got in their way; my attitude was wrong
Whatever excuse they made in their head
Can't justify how they left me for dead
Now I sit in this cage, where day after day
The younger dogs all get adopted away
When I had almost come to the end of my rope
You saw my face, and I finally had hope
You saw through the grey and the legs bent with age
And felt that I still had life beyond this cage
You took me home, gave me food and a bed
And shared your own pillow with my poor tired head
We snuggle and play and you talk to me low
You love me so dearly, you want me to know
I may have lived most of my life with another
But you outshine them with a love so much stronger
And I promise to return all the love I can give
To you, my dear person, as long as I live
I may be with you for a week or for years
We will share many smiles, you will no doubt shed tears
And when the time comes that God deems I must leave
I know you will cry and your heart it will grieve
And when I arrive at the Bridge all brand new
My thoughts and my heart will still be with you
And I will brag to all that will hear
Of the person who made my last days
oh, so dear
Author: Unknown
Source: Senior dogs rescue
Dog Bottom
The dogs all had a meeting,
They came from near and far,
Some came by public transport,
While others came by car.
But before they were allowed
To enter in the hall,
Each had to hang it's bottom
On a hook upon the wall.
They all got nicely seated,
Each mother's son and sire,
When a dirty little yellow dog
Began to holler "Fire!"
They all jumped up together,
They had no time to look,
And each one grabbed at random,
A bottom from a hook.
This got their bottoms all mixed up,
And made them very sore,
To wear another bottom
That they hadn't worn before.
And that's the reason why a dog
Will even leave a bone,
To smell another bottom
In the hope to find his own!
Author: Unknown
MY BRINDLE BULL-TERRIER
My brindle bull-terrier, loving and wise,
With his little screw-tail and his wonderful eyes,
With his white little breast and his white little paws
Which, alas! he mistakes very often for claws;
With his sad little gait as he comes from the fight
When he feels that he hasn't done all that he might;
Oh, so fearless of man, yet afraid of a frog,
My near little, queer little, dear little dog!
He shivers and shivers and shakes with the cold;
He huddles and cuddles, though three summers old.
And forsaking the sunshine, endeavors to rove
With his cold little worriments under the stove!
At table, his majesty, dying for meat,—
Yet never despising a lump that is sweet,—
Sits close by my side with his head on my knee
And steals every good resolution from me!
How can I withhold from those worshipping eyes
A small bit of something that stealthily flies
Down under the table and into his mouth
As I tell my dear neighbor of life in the South.
My near little, queer little, dear little dog,
So fearless of man, yet afraid of a frog!
The nearest and queerest and dearest of all
The race that is loving and winning and small;
The sweetest, most faithful, the truest and best
Dispenser of merriment, love and unrest!
Author: Coletta Ryan.
As published in "The Dog's Book of Verse" Collected by J. Earl Clauson
The Dog
The truth I do not stretch or shove
When I state the dog is full of love.
I've also proved, by actual test,
A wet dog is the lovingest.
THE LITTLE WHITE DOG
Little white dog with the meek brown eyes,
Tell me the boon that most you prize.
Would a juicy bone meet your heart's desire?
Or a cozy rug by a blazing fire?
Or a sudden race with a truant cat?
Or a gentle word? Or a friendly pat?
Is the worn-out ball you have always near
The dearest of all the things held dear?
Or is the home you left behind
The dream of bliss to your doggish mind?
But the little white dog just shook his head
As if "None of these are best," he said.
A boy's clear whistle came from the street;
There's a wag of the tail and a twinkle of feet,
And the little white dog did not even say,
"Excuse me, ma'am," as he scampered away;
But I'm sure as can be his greatest joy
Is just to trot behind that boy.
Author: May Ellis Nichols.
As published in "The Dog's Book of Verse" Collected by J. Earl Clauson
Motto For a Dog
I love this little house because
It offers after dark,
A pause for rest, a rest for paws,
A place to moor my bark.
Author: Arthur Guiterman
