Feb. 2 1983 —– July 2 2000
Bichon Frise
You see a pup. You pick him up. You bring him home. You give him a bone.
He sleeps in your bed. He steps on your head. He wees on your floors. So you take him outdoors.
You play with him And buy him toys. He fills your life With special joys.
You teach him tricks, It’s such a kick To see him beg And sit on two legs.
You feed him well And nurture and love him. You just can’t seem To get enough of him.
Sometimes when he’s bad You can’t let it go. But you don’t get mad, You just tell him “No”.
This love goes on For eighteen years And then it is The time for tears. | Your pup gets sick. It’s time to part. And you are left With a broken heart.
Where did he go? Where is my pup? He had to leave. His time was up.
I want to go too Don’t leave me now, Take me with you. But I don’t see how.
I suffer now That he is gone. My baby waits above. We’ll meet in Heaven Later on Again to share our love.
|
Dinky |