My Old Mill Dogs

Rescue dogs come and go,
But mine? They mostly stay.
For no one wants an older dog
Just young ones who run and play.
Some are old
And some are sick,
And some are sick and old.
But wait--they're only middle aged,
My age.
And that's still young I'm told.

They gave all they had to greedy man;
Their youth, their health, their pups,
And now they need a helping hand
But no one looks them up.

So they and I will stay right here
To age with dignity and grace.
With mutual love we will attempt
The pain and fear to erase.
And when time comes to cross the bridge
I hope that I can find
The same forgiveness in my heart
That they have for all mankind.

by Jean Ensor
Sarosomo@aol.com