Best Friends…#137

Author’s Note: A bit sad, but life showers us with both happiness and sadness; my love of my own little dog who is still with me created this poem. (Picture is of my little Mason)

Mason Murphree 8 Years old

Best Friend’s

A little dog barked and leaped beside
His Master in a quiet little town on a quiet
Little street. He fought with the he-dogs
And sniffed at the she-dogs, life to this little
Dog was a treat.

Years went by, the Master walked with
A cane, the little dog limped along silently,
Their lives had changed. The little dog had
Lost his sight, he could no longer fight, at
The she-dogs he only had just enough strength
To wag his tail.

The town people watched as the two of them
Aged, the Master never walked again, he had
Become just another tired old man. Within
Time no one saw the Master and his little
Dog, one day a neighbor knocked at their door,
Peeked In the window, and there, they both lay on the

The Master and his little dog had watch the
Morning sky lose its cast of gray, it was to be
A very fine day. Then they watched the sun
Go down and the lamp lights lit in the quiet little

They closed their eyes, Master dreamed of
Walking along the quiet little streets, the little
Dog dreamed that he could once again bark and

Master woke to find the little dog laying at his
Feet, he thought maybe he was just asleep.
Painfully he knelt down, knowing neither
Would ever walk again through the quiet little town.

The little dog was dead the Master hugged him
One more time, saying his last good-bye. Then
He too, lay down beside his little dog and died.
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