A bowl of water, a bite to eat,
by Thomas Anthony Liddell
A walk in the park each day was a treat,
HENRY was loveable and crafty as well,
Being trapped in flesh of a cross-breed was hell. Fetching a ball or running for sticks
Meant nothing to him, they were not his tricks,
But if I left my chair with a nonchalant air,
When I looked again, HENRY was there. He never caught anything, he had no pace,
But he shrieked with joy at the start of a chase.
The rabbits obliged, popping out of their burrows,
Then ran like the wind, straight down the furrows. The cats just made for places so narrow,
They knew it was "NO-GO" for four legs and a marrow.
The dogs just fled, the birds flew high,
But some of them watched as he bit the sky. After years of frustration he knew 'twas his fate,
HENRY rolled over by the old garden gate,
He'll be with friends like peas in a pod,
Frustrated no more, he has gone to his God.