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The Old Dog

October 15, 2012

The old dog waits here everyday,

On the patched, woolen blanket

By the front door,

He’s worn a hollow in the porch-

Maybe today will be the day.

Ever vigilant,

His loyalty and love

Are all consuming.

That spark of hope will never die,

A slither of grief shining in his eye,

But he cannot know

That Master’s gone away,

Six feet under,

He won’t be back to stay.

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From → Poetry

12 Comments
  1. Very touching.

    Ronnie.

  2. Nineteenfifteen permalink

    I just want to hug him around the neck.

  3. a dog’s loyalty..moving..

  4. Love the poignant punch in the last four lines – well expressed.

  5. You should watch Red Dog. It’s sad just like that!

  6. Oh – 😥 lovely! And dogs really do this don’t they? I remember when my brother first moved away from home, our dog sat looking out the window of the front door for weeks. When he finally came home for a visit her squeals of excitement were deafening!
    Suzy 😀

    • Aww, that’s very cute. Dogs are the most lovely, loyal creatures. It’s quite heart-breaking to watch them pine over a master who is never coming home….

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