|VIEW THE MOBILE VERSION of www.petstories.ca|| Informational|
Home - Bird Stories - Dog Stories - Dog Poems - Cat Stories - Bear Stories
Tim An Irish Terrier
Hamish A Scotch Terrier
An Old Dog
You're A Dog
Least ViewedMy Dog
Fidele's Grassy Tomb
Rhapsody On A Dog's Intelligence
To Tim An Irish Terrier
Remarks To My Grown-up Pup
To Rufus A Spaniel
The Power Of The Dog
An Extract From Inscription On The Monument Of A Newfoundland Dog
He's just plain yellow: no "blue-ribbon" breed.
In disposition--well, a trifle gruff
Outside his "tried and true." His coat is rough.
To bark at night and sleep by day, his creed.
Yet, when his soft brown eyes so dumbly plead
For one caress from my too-busy hand,
I wonder from what far and unknown land
Came the true soul, which in his gaze I read.
Whence all his loyalty and faithful zeal?
Why does he share my joyous mood, and gay?
Why mourn with me, when I perchance do mourn?
When hunger-pressed, why scorn a bounteous meal
That by my side he may pursue his way?
Whence came his noble soul, and where its bourn?
Next: Without Are Dogs
Previous: To Tim An Irish Terrier