TBogg’s Satchmo, 1997-2008
They had to put him down, that good old dog
With the wise eyes and patient look.
He couldn’t understand the pain
That grew too much, too fast;
His days had run their too-short course.
He understood the days spent walking on the beach
Or sleeping in the sun. The warmth of fellow-dogs,
The comfort of the humans’ talk.
He did not understand the pain.
He could not understand the pain.
Maybe someone can send this to TBogg. I couldn't log in to post a comment.
