Your soft snores
Often woke me in the night.
Your cold nose
Under warm covers
Impelled me to shout.
YIKES!
Early morning please
For a crunchy bone
A loving pat
An open door to pee
Were often met with sighs.
If I had only known
How close it was
how soon the day
would come
The day you were to die.
The sighs and shouts
Would quickly die on lips.
Increased would be
the loving hugs
the slobbery car trips.
The walks the play
so every day
when tongue would jump to lick.
I would know
That you did know
That you were the litter’s pick.
If dogs in heaven’s clouds
do truly hunt and roam
You surely earned some angels wings
for your welcome home.
Goodbye Misha.
Gone but not forgotten–someday we will fly together…
Linda
| Misha |
| 4, May 2001 |
| Linda |