Black spots on white, even a heart shaped one on your butt, not many believe you're a purebred, and not just another mutt.

He who is Fritz, with those strange eyes that never blur, one brown, one blue, a floppy eared fire doggy with a head of velvet fur.

Overweight scooby snackin hound, oh how your eyes shine and ears perk up, when there are sandwiches or Kentucky Fried Chicken around.

Growling and yipping and running in your sleep, anyone who didn't know you would think you were of a fierce fighting breed.

Snuggly and lovey, to all you're a chum, always to those with food, or even to those without, for a snack or a hug you'll always run.

A part of the family and a special one too, each birthday a present, and each Christmas one too, and you even celebrate with us when the year turns new.

To each and all that you have graced with your presence you are much more than a K-9, you make people laugh, and lap grape juice as if drinking fine wine.

Never a dull moment has your existence had, running after birds and squirrels though with age you leap less like a gazelle and more like a frog, it's a bird it's a plane, no it's just Fritz, our brown eyed, blued eyed velvet headed fire dog.


©2002 Lloydene F. Hill