The Boss Dog

Thin black dog
Not like the little
Brown and white
Living his last today

Down streets already a memory
Strangers bereft of the appellation
Scenes set in a score of days
Still walking under grey
Cobblestones, pavement and sky

Composed somehow
Man’s best friend
Certainly mine will die today
And my words mark it
As much as the tears in his fur

Cradling him
Now holding phone pictures
Not my friend
To my heart.

By J.W.H. Hobbs

I wrote this 31/10/22, the day he passed away. Felt so damn sad, and for reasons beyond what I understand, one dog poem of a young dog goes beside a faithful old boy who’s at rest now. Heartbroken. Keep your pets close, they love purely and honestly and give us the chance to share our souls.