Our Little Dog

Our little dog is getting old,
a poodle black as night
or so he was when just a lad
but now he’s almost white.

He follows Joan around the house,
he’s not the one to roam,
if she goes out and leaves him there
he cries ‘til she gets home.

He is a sprightly little dog
’though age has made its call,
he’s nearly deaf and almost blind,
so now walks into walls.

I hope when I’m as old as he,
in ‘human terms’ I mean,
I’ll still be bouncing, full of joy,
as our dog’s always been.

So take a moral from this pup
however old you get,
if you let old age slow you down,
it’s you who needs the vet!

Ivor G Davies