Brutus was a free dog, a five year old rescue when I got him.  At the time I worked with a lady who was fond of pointing out that her dog was an expensive purebred of champion stock.  That inspired me to write this poem.  When I read it again I smiled and remembered because it was true and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Brutus

My dog is not a champion

Or even very smart

Yet he always has

A place that’s special in my heart.

He scratches ‘cos his skin is dry

His coat can show some spots

Sometimes his dark brown fur

Has a lot of small white dots.

He snores and snuffles and coughs up stuff

With other dogs he plays too rough

That causes fights in doggy parks

With lots of growls and angry barks.

 

My dog is not a champion

But he loves me very much.

He cuddles close beside me ‘cos he likes to feel my touch.

He follows me from room to room

Or just lies on the bed

Covering the sheets

With all the fur he shed.

We take long walks together

And sometimes we will run

But tug of war for him

Is the thing he finds most fun.

My dog is not a champion

But he doesn’t have to be

I love him ‘cos he is

A faithful friend to me.