She used to be a bouncy dog
Within each leg a spring.
Always looking for a ball,
Or for a stick to bring.
But now the years have slowed her down,
But enthusiasm's still there.
She can't do what she used to do
But she doesn't seem to care.
She plays out in the garden
And friends take her for walks.
She's good at conversations,
She very nearly talks.
It's just she's gained a little weight
And now prefers her chair.
I bought a little staircase,
To help get up there.
We're growing old together.
Doing as best we can.
I'm sure she knows she's fortunate,
I certainly know I am.
x x
