Your tattered fur was left to tangle
but caressed daily; an expression of the love we felt.
A vicious side can be the end of everything,
the dimming of light in ones eyes
yet leaving behind the vibrancy you always had.
If it wasn't for the bounding legs
and that funny little run,
you'd have been just as any dog,
but the things that made you unique
were what made us love you.
It was the cocking of the head, the raised ears
the curvature of your lips that made it seem
like you were smiling.
You bounded, all legs and joints,
across the terrain of my heart
and left behind the typical shedding
of coarse fur.
xx.
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