by Patricia Czubak
Ode To Kimmie
A puppy was born, he was given to us.
No furry round cutie, no tail no fluff.
So sleek, what a beauty all black and brown
His ears stood up straight, they never went down.
As life would have it and as the months flew,
this puppy grew up and he knew what to do.
The "sit" he could handle, thou at times he'd go "down".
To "heel", well, forget it we'd be pulled to the ground.
As guard dog he mastered the bark not the bite.
Yet when company came,they would get such a fright.
One leasson well learned was the "kisses" routine,
As his daddy had taught him, to never be mean.
His life's greatest passion, a little white ball.
We would throw that darn thing spring, summer, and fall.
But this winter it's different, hibernation abounds,
and the "ball" it lays idle under snow covered mounds.
His paw prints in snow once so easily found,
Have embedded their mark onto "Higher Ground".