"Ode To Lynsey" 
In and out of the shelter more than once…
A little hyper and always ready to bounce.
She caught my eye and then she came to me…
A little mutt...her name was Lynsey.
I took her home and cleaned her up...
There she was…my little pup.
At night I’d take her for a walk…
When I asked, she was never one to balk.
She’d nudge her leash hanging by the door…
As if to say, “let’s go walk some more!”
Little by little she would learn new things…
Sit, roll over, crawl, and bark when the doorbell rings.
She'd hold out her paw when asked, "give me five"…
And offer the other when told, "the OTHER five."
She'd scan the walls and ceiling as she sat on the rug…
And let me know if she spotted a fly or bug.
A tasty reward was what she wanted, and always got…
But not until I gave that bug a swat!
She’d always let me know that she didn’t appreciate…
A ride in the car…Yikes! A to visit the vet!
“YAP! YAP! YAP! I don’t want to go”, she’d say…
But, she was a little queen by the end of the day.
All bathed and clipped and freshly groomed…
She’d forgotten about thinking she was doomed.
As time passed, the walks were few and far between…
But she kept as spry as any pup I'd ever seen.
I'd come home from work and pick up her ball…
And give it a quick toss down the hall.
She'd go fetch it, bring it back to me, and then…
Expect me to throw it again…and again…and again.
After an exhausting game of fetch with the ball…
She'd turn and run toward me down the hall.
I'd crouch on hands and knees…and over she went.
Just like a deer leaping a fence!
She'd drop the ball by her dish and gobble up her food…
As if, during the day, she wasn't in the mood.
We played these games day after day, year after year…
But then, old age began to creep up on her.
She wasn't so interested in chasing the ball any more…
And, on occasion, left a little "present" on the floor.
Her hearing wasn't as good as in her younger days…
She didn't even hear scary thunderstorms pass by.
Her appetite waned, as so did her pep…
She had difficulty getting up the porch steps.
Her breath was as bad as a passing skunk…
And her ribcage looked as if it had sunk.
To keep her going, we did all we could do…
But, after sixteen years, we all knew…
That the years had taken their toll on her…
And our "little pup" was no longer there.
She didn’t resist when I picked her up…
I cradled her and said, “You’re still my little pup.”
But, this ride in the car would be her last…
She didn’t even fuss or try to protest.
She was so tired…we both knew that her time was up.
But, I’ll always remember her…as my beloved little pup.
Lessons learned from my dear canine friend…
To be loving and loyal to the very end…
And if we growl or snap once in a while…
Life is better when greeted with a wagging tail (or a smile).
