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One by One, they pass by my
cage,
They say, "Too worn, too
broken, too old of age.
Way past his time, he can't
run and play."
Then they shake their heads
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 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 I still had life beyond this cage. You
took me home, gave me food and a bed, And
shared your own pillow with m y 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 not doubt shed tears. And
when the time comes that 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 who will hear, Of
the person who made my last days so dear. ~
Leslie Whalen ~ |