Friday, 9 December 2011

SONNET FOR A MUTT, by Piper's Mom
















Shall I compare thee to a rottweiler?
It’s hard to guess while thou art still so young.
Thou hast brown feet and mostly blackish fur,
And two or three black spots upon thy tongue.
Perhaps thou com’st instead from collie stock,
With ancestors who herded woolly sheep,
And now thou dream’st of chasing thine own flock,
With clever nips and barks, while thou dost sleep.
Or German shepherd thou mayest be, in part,
A dog that’s smart and suitable to train
For search-and-rescue or the special art
Of tracking criminals through snow and rain.

But all that truly matters, in the end,
Is that thou art my Dog, my dearest Friend!





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