My dog Laila,
Rules the roost
In this house.
She's
Got her own pillow,
But she chooses to sleep
On our other dog's head.
She smells-
Like mushrooms,
And bad cheese.
Her breath
Would flatten
Third world countries,
Her butt
Is fat,
And rolly
And her neck
Is full of squish.
She had a checkerboard
Nose
When she was a baby-
But then she grew up
So it's not black and pink anymore
It is only black
With a little pink dot...
It all grew into the center-
Into one small freckle.
This year,
Laila turned nine.
And I realized,
How gray she is getting in the face.
I remember
How she used to fit in my hand,
And curl up in a ball on my lap.
And I started to hate,
How much my
Furry
Perfect
Puppy,
Has gotten
So
Much
Older.
No comments:
Post a Comment