To my dog,
They say you have no soul, my little canine friend,
But, when we laid you down and heaped the mound,
I could feel that I would never fondle you again;
Or that I’d gaze no more into your honest eyes of brown.
Those eyes were deep, dark pools that seemed to say to me,
“Wherever you go, I’ll follow where you lead.
Through life’s disappointments, I will not forsake thee
To you I’ll prove a faithful friend indeed.”
I planted flowers by your resting place, Ole pal.
I unashamedly wiped away the tears.
I bowed my head and breathed a prayer of thankfulness,
That you had been my comrade through the years.
They say you have no soul. But yet, somehow,
I know that you are living on in blissful state,
And that somewhere beyond the border land,
When I arrive, I’ll find you waiting for me at the gate.
That you will wag your short stump of a tail,
And flash those canine teeth in a welcome grin.
I know you’re just a dog, but through the ages you and yours
Have proved to be mankind’s most faithful friend.