Lynsey by Jim

In and out of the shelter
more than once
A little hyper and
always ready to bounce.
She caught my eye and
then she came to me
A little mutt…
her name was Lynsey.

I took her home and
cleaned her up…
There she was-my little pup.
At night IÆd take her
for a walk
When I asked
she was never one to balk.
SheÆd nudge her leash
hanging by the door
As if to say
“letÆs go walk some more!”

Little by little
she would learn new things
Sit roll over crawl
and bark when the doorbell rings.
She’d hold out her paw
when asked “give me five”
And offer the other when told
“the OTHER five.”

She’d scan the walls and
ceiling as she sat on the rug
And let me know
if she spotted a fly or bug.
A tasty reward was
what she wanted and always got
But not until I gave
that bug a swat!

SheÆd always let me know
that she didnÆt appreciate
A ride in the car-Yikes!
A to visit the vet!
I donÆt want to go” sheÆd say
But she was a little queen
by the end of the day.
All bathed and clipped and
freshly groomed
SheÆd forgotten about
thinking she was doomed.

As time passed
the walks were
few and far between
But she kept as spry
as any pup I’d ever seen.
I’d come home from work and
pick up her ball
And give it a quick toss down the hall.

She’d go fetch it
bring it back to me and then
Expect me to throw it
again and again and again.

After an exhausting game
of fetch with the ball
She’d turn and run
toward me down the hall.
I’d crouch on hands and knees-
and over she went.
Just like a deer leaping a fence!
She’d drop the ball
by her dish and gobble
up her food
As if during the day
she wasn’t in the mood.

We played these games day
after day year after year
But then old age began
to creep up on her.
She wasn’t so interested
in chasing the ball any more
And on occasion
left a little “present”
on the floor.
Her hearing wasn’t as
good as in her younger days
She didn’t even hear scary
thunderstorms pass by.

Her appetite waned
as so did her pep
She had difficulty
getting up the porch steps.
Her breath was as bad
as a passing skunk
And her ribcage looked
as if it had sunk.

To keep her going
we did all we could do
But after sixteen years
we all knew
That the years had taken
their toll on her
And our “little pup”
was no longer there.

She didnÆt resist
when I picked her up
I cradled her and said
“YouÆre still my little pup.”
But this ride in the car
would be her last
She didnÆt even fuss or
try to protest.
She was so tired-we both
knew that her time was up.
But IÆll always remember her-
as my beloved little pup.

Lessons learned from
my dear canine friend
To be loving and loyal
to the very end
And if we growl or
snap once in a while
Life is better when greeted
with a wagging tail (or a smile).



13, May 2002