Runaway Dog

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Sometimes dispite our best efforts, we lose our pet,
And are about heart broken as anyone can ever get
This poem describes a very bad experience I once had,
While I was missing my soft little Cutsie dog so very bad.

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Runaway Dog

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Once upon a cold December night so damp and dreary,
I was extremely sad and my eyes were red and teary.
My little dog name Cutsie had run off that I loved dearly.
I had been looking for her all night and I was so weary.

 

 

 

She had run off chasing another small dog she had seen,
As I had her outside in the yard where she was a peein’.
I chased her down the road a block or two just at a run,
But she was just to fast and by then she was just gone.

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Hurry up and find a place to pee Cutsie, and don’t you be running off.

 

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I got in the car and drove all over the local neighborhood,
But she was just not anywhere and I looked so very good.
By now I was panicking wondering if she was gone forever.
If I lost her for good, how would I ever be able to recover.

 

 

 

I put an add in the Bartlesville paper with her description,
Hoping someone would see it end my terrible tension.
After two more days of worrying about my little baby girl,
I received a call that made me glow like a shining pearl.

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A lady said she thought she might have my Cutsie dog.
She had seen her wandering beside the road in the fog,
And had picked her up to keep her from getting run over.
I told her that I would be over soon to see if I did know her.

 

 

 

As she opened the door, I could see Cutsie on the floor,
I was elated and she began to bark and jump at the door.
I picked her up and she began kissing my ears with joy
As I talked to her, that special doggie voice I did deploy.

 

 

 

We were both happy and the lady knew the dog was mine.
We started out and I saw a like girl peeking from behind.
There was a tear in her eye as I could see a glimmer,
She had become attached and I could hear a whimper.

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Cutsie just loved little girls. This is Sarah and Cutsie out front one day.

 

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I told her she could come visit Cutsie anytime she pleased,
And she seemed better as if her pain was suddenly eased.
Once at home, Cutsie sat down and had a talk with me.
We agreed she would wear her leash when she did pee.

 

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This agreement worked well, but she still chased the cats,
She only got to the end of the leash and was stopped flat.
The favorite part of her day was trips to the yard outside.
She sniffed and marked her territory with each little stride.

 

 

 

When she was younger, on long walks we did go each day,
She strutted like a little dog queen each step of the way.
But she had grown old like me preferring to take it slow.
So she spent a lot of time in my chair with me, you know.

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Cutsie in her usual spot in the old man’s lap.

 

 

 

 

 

By Bill

 

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Thanks for reading Runaway Dog,
Bill