The Stray

There was a little dog one day, Who ambled on his aimless way. He didn't have a house or home: A doggy bed or fine meat bone. His coat was mats and full of fleas. He owned no boy to try and please. Near garbage bin was where he sat, Along with one sad, homeless cat. His human threw him out you see. This person wasn't you or me. For we would never be so cruel, Or act like some poor, heartless fool. The winter came and with it cold. Dog's airy ways were put on hold. He shivered in the dark of night: A sad, pathetic, needy sight. And then a storm blew in with snow. It left dog with no place to go. He sat and whined beside the road, For someone kind to lift his load. Then came a car -- slow passing by. A young boy warm and loved inside. He saw the freezing, half grown pup And begged they stop and pick him up. The winter passed and next the spring. Now please behold a wondrous thing. A boy and dog romp on the grass. All mats and fleas now in the past. It's joy and love and fun we see. The way that God meant it should be. Both run and play, all pain now past; This bond of dog and boy shall last. The sad thing is allotted time Of man and dog will just not rhyme. The boy will know sad loss of friend, Long years before his own sure end. Then in a time that's yet to be, They'll reunite both young and free. Forever will their bond go on, In timeless sunsets, countless dawns. © 2015 Diane Lefebvre