Tuesday, June 19, 2018

That Doggone Emma Dog is Gone


Even today, remembering Emma
Can present to me quite a big dilemma
Like should I be real happy or be very sad
Because I know at times she could be really bad
and I’d even say to her “Wait‘ll I tell your Dad”

Of those bad things she did, I can’t recall very many
And in Emma’s own eyes there probably weren’t any.
She was pretty darn sure that rewarded she should be
And she’d show me that when she headed toward me. 

She would wiggle her whole self across the room
To nose her clumsy way onto my lap
‘Cause she knew I was really that kind of sap
Who would let her stay there and take her nap

She’d push with her nose until I petted
Or licked me so much that I regretted 
Ever letting her get close enough so she netted
Me neatly as a fish when she wagged that tail 

She had some crazy ideas in her head
Like liking the couch better than her bed.
She would also sometimes grab you by the shirt
or wag her tail in your face which could really hurt

At times she’d bark really hard at a stranger
(Which likely fooled some, but they were in no danger)
I know why that’s so, and you too just might
‘cause her bark was mostly worse than her bite

Emma stayed with us until she was quite old
I’ll tell you where she went, if I may be so bold,
Somewhere where it’s almost never cold
And its lots of fun to grow very old

And everyone there will like nothing better
Than stopping by every day just to pet her.

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