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Poetry from within
   

MY FRIEND TIM


The advert said, “Twenty five pounds to good home”,



We went to see- my wife adored you- we quickly bought you.



The good home not mentioned, the money was.



You followed us to the car, eagerly jumped in.



Your eyes said it all, filled with love and trust,



As you offered your paw to first one then the other.







We walked you round, showing you the boundary,



When you pushed through the hedge, just a firm No!



Was all you needed to show it out of bounds.



Next day we let you roam free – just to test you,



You never failed us, did not wander off,



Just rounded up the chickens back to their pen.







Walking for miles round Hampshire lanes,



Sitting beside us as we worked in the garden.



Actually smiling. Wagging your tail in greeting.



Your head resting on your front feet, sleeping ?



Yet knowing our every move, and word.



Not taking over, just trusting each other.







Then one day, you came up, gave me your paw,



Your troubled eyes looking up into mine,



Trying to tell me that something was wrong.



With your eyes clouding over, you started to tremble,



Then rolled on the floor out of control.



The first of so many epileptic fits.







The Vet tried hard to deal with your trouble,



But warned that I be prepared to make a decision.



Some weeks you seemed like your old self,



We made the most of each day as it came,



Then three fits in one morning, and we both knew.



Your troubled eyes pleading, I sent for the Vet.







You lay on your bed, too weak to sit up,



Looking at me so sadly, yet still trusting me.



As he shaved your leg, prepared the injection,



He murmured “ we know so much, but not enough”



You gave me your paw as the needle went in,



I heard my wife sigh, felt your last breath,



As you floated away, now free of pain forever.




A. R. Lewis