She’s proud and tall with warm, soft ears
She walks with purposed grace
Her cord like tail still makes a whap
On walls or Avery’s face
Her life force ebbs, her age is old
But muster on she will
Confused a bit by what besets her
Yet yearning for the thrill
Of another walk around the lake
Or a trot along the trail
A chance to roam and chew some grass
Or sniff another’s tail
Oh brown dog, you precede us
As your essence mists away
Yet knowing that it must be so
To follow you some day
If I believe that we are spirit
With taken human form
It’s not a reach to say the same
For a dog with ears so warm
