A Little Prayer for Larry By Mina Brown Is there a country, Lord, where thou dost keep a place reserved for dogs that fall asleep? Large airy kennels, yards for hiding bones, A little river chattering over stones. And wide, green fields for those that never knew A smokey town, an old worn rug or two. Before a fire where sparks do not fly out-- sparks are such nasty things to have about. I like to think there is, and so I pray for one small Newfoundland that died today. He was so full of fun, not very wise. The puppy look still lingered in his eyes. But he was very dear--he'd come to me and rest his soft black chin upon my knee. Thou knowest him...one night not long ago, He tramped with me across the frozen snow. And there beyond the wood, peaceful and still, we met Thee walking on the moonlit hill. Lord, keep him safe, wherever he may be, and let him always have a thought of me That I may hear, when I pass through the dark, Thy soothing voice, and then, a Friendly Bark! By Mina Brown