A friend and neighbour once had a beautiful golden retriever called Chloe. She had just given birth to a litter of puppies, with most of them being given away to friends. Two of them were kept and named Rossi and Bo. After a few months Chloe and her pups would often venture out into the fields and forest by the house, exploring here and there. On one particular day they accidentally stumbled upon a cobra nest, and all three were bitten and died later that day. It was a terrible shock for the family, so I wrote this poem for them to show how much the dogs had also touched me in my life.
I once knew a family, I’d like you to know, I’d call them my friends, this poem will show.
The first time we met, she jumped up on me, this friend I call Clio, she’s one of the three. “Oh Clio, behave, can’t you see what you do, you’ve made me all dirty, I’m just not like you.” You rummage in the litter, in the bins at the pool, you poo in my garden, oh Clio not cool? But deep down I know, for this I can see, there’s only one Clio, she’s charming she’s free. She may be quite naughty at times like above, but really she’s special, she brings us her love. She brings us her friendship, her smell and her touch, for Clio is lovely and playful and such. Farewell my dear Clio, I’ll see you again, for time always ticks, I just don’t know when. Now here ends my story of one of the three, the one we call Clio the one who touched me.
I once knew a family, I’d like you to know, I’d call them my friends, this poem will show.
When we first met, I looked down at you, “I’m told you’re called Rossi, the one who got through.” Searching her eyes to see what I find, a look that shows friendship, a look that is kind. “So here is another, she’s one of the three, she’s quiet and docile, the way they should be.” I stare at her legs, there unusually long, I think to myself, where do they belong? A horse or a greyhound or maybe a cat, but Rossi I’m sure, she wouldn’t like that. I watch as you scratch the itch on your skin, determined and firm, with the thought that you’ll win, but win you do not, for baldness it brings, but Rossi I know, cares not of these things. She’ll wee on the floor and you’ll have to take care, under the table and under the chair. I stepped on it once, not something I like, but Rossi is special so it makes it alright. She gives us her peace, her contentment her love, Rossi my friend take care up above.
I once knew a family, I’d like you to know, I’d call them my friends, this poem will show.
I think back again, and what do I see? The one they called Bo, he’s naughty you’ll see. As I’ve been told he’s very unique, for there on his tail is something I seek. I Move ever closer, he looks well behaved, and there do I spot, his tail, it’s been shaved. It’s only a patch from what I can see, I wonder quite how this mark came to be. And then something clicks, this must be the key, he’s chosen, for keeps, he’s one of the three.
Now Bo can be naughty I’ve told you this once, look after your shoes, your flip flops your lunch. It happened to Pierce, they were left on the porch, his flip flops went missing, so out comes the torch. Shining the light outside on the lawn, there lie his flip flops, tattered and torn. Picking them up and dusting them down, turning them over and starting to frown. “My flip flops are ruined, they’re broken they’re bust” “time to buy new ones, it’s a shame, but I must”
Bo might be naughty, but that’s only a show, he’s really quite boisterous, fun loving, I know. He’d nibble your toes and nip at your hand, he’d run round in circles, he’s really quite grand. For Bo is the leader the head of the pack, he needs to be hardy for nothing must lack. Being the strongest is hardest of all, caring for other’s you need to stand tall. So if you lost something don’t blame it on him, it’s part of his nature, this strength he must win. So Bo if you hear me, take my advice, stay at the top for you’ll find it quite nice.
Alas, it does end, this poem of three. Somehow I think, they’re happy and free.