One by one, they pass by my cage, too old, too worn,
too broken, no way.
Way past his time, he can't run and play.
Then they shake their heads slowly and go on their way.
A little old man, arthritic and sore,
it seems I am not wanted anymore.
I once had a home, I once had a bed,
a place that was warm, and where I was fed.
Now my muzzle is grey, and my eyes slowly fail,
who wants a dog so old and so frail?
My family decided I didn't belong, I got in their way,
my attitude was wrong.
Whatever excuse they made in their head,
can't justify how they left me for dead.
Now I sit in this cage, where day after day,
the younger dogs get adopted away.
When I had almost come to the end of my rope,
you saw my face, and I finally had hope.
You saw thru the grey, and the legs bent with age,
and felt I still had life beyond this cage.
You took me home, gave me food and a bed,
and shared your own pillow with my poor tired head.
We snuggle and play, and you talk to me low,
you love me so dearly, you want me to know.
I may have lived most of my life with another,
but you outshine them with a love so much stronger.
And I promise to return all the love I can give,
to you, my dear person, as long as I live.
I may be with you for a week, or for years,
we will share many smiles, you will no doubt shed tears.
And when the time comes that God deems I must leave,
I know you will cry and your heart, it will grieve.
And when I arrive at the Bridge, all brand new,
my thoughts and my heart will still be with you.
And I will brag to all who will hear.
Of the person who made my last days so dear.-
Written by: Leslie Whalen 2/01