Rags Rasputin, the First and Last…

Part sheep dog he was, big as a house,

Ate us as well out of home and house,

Never did listen, was not well trained,

Ran away from my dad when he got the chance,

Dad just said let him go, he got tired of his dance…

He always came back, smelling of the ocean,

His bath that night raising a mighty commotion,

Where does he get to smell this way, dad would say,

Smelled of clams and fish with feathers in his fur,

We had the only dog that liked to eat cat type food,

Maybe in a past life he was a cat; he liked to try to climb trees too…

Poor old Rags, we had him till I was out of high school,

He would lie under his special chair, at night he would cry,

Whimper yes he would, his teeth falling out, pain he was in,

My dad got tired of it one day, took him to the vet, even he did cry,

I feel bad now; it took me several days to notice he was missing,

Mom said he was put to sleep, he was suffering, poor guy,

Tears I have even now while writing and reminiscing…

                        © ed ~ 9/24/04