HONEY

I wonder where dogs go when they die.

Do they find a kennel up in the sky

A place where they can rest

After living on earth and giving there best.

I lost my dog a dear old friend

Willing and able to the end

A good companion trusty and true

Oh..Old friend I do miss you.

When out shooting pheasant or hare

If I looked round your always there

To do my birding so willing and able

We always took something back to the table

When I worked in the garden mowing or weeding

Your eyes full of begging and pleading

To go for a walk by the river

At the sound of my voice your body would quiver

No more can I look in your faithful old eyes

But perhaps if I look in the grey winter skies

Memories will come of the day that I treasure

Of days spent together when you gave so much pleasure.

-Fred Miller