I guess her name was Brigitta
But we call her Greta
She is a rescue from the Humane society
The doctor said he had fixed her up
And in the short encounter he figured she was the smartest dog ever.
She is not named after the famous Swedish princess
And she is not a character of the novella
She is just a sweet Kentucky resident
Looking for a home, love and a sense of safety and to believe.
We already have Moses, Mia, Tirerius and Tantalus
Greta is smaller than the others
She is a Blueheeler and most affectionate and quickly made friends
She loves to play go fetch
But her talent is in herding
She runs to the back of the flock
All the sheep follow her instruction
They walk to barn in single file
As Greta runs back and forth
To keep them in line with military precision.
Greta loves to play and show her appreciation with passionate licking
As I throw the rubber ball in the pond
She jumps in the water from the dock and swims to it despite the ripples propelling it forward and further from her
She returns with the ball in her mouth
For me to throw it again.
Greta can catch a mouse and fight an opossum
And I have seen her fight a whistle pig
But right after the battle is over
She returns to me
For me to acknowledge her power
I give her a dog biscuit for treat
She is proud and very difficult to defeat.
She is a short haired dog with a shiny coat
At first we thought that she would be an outside dog
But love wins when reasons fail
So she has a bed inside where she snores and sheds
Telling us that she is content in her new abode.
We laugh and play because we believe what Lord Byron had said
Love will find a way through paths
Where wolves fear to prey.
We love her so
A victim of hemolytic anemia
The sad eyes with dilated pupils
And jaundiced conjunctiva
A beautiful body
From which strength has been stolen
But she is in our hearts
With admiration of incessant energy
And never forgotten.