OH, KODA!

I saw him lying in the street,

The vicious dog just made retreat,

A lifeless body I supposed,

I cradled him and then arose;

My eyes were dim,

My wail, a mourning,

His eyes were glazed,

This sad morning;

Suddenly, spark in eye,

Gave me ‘nother reason to cry,

A gleam, a look he gave to me,

I saw that fine he would be;

That poor little fella,

So living joyously!

He is a fighter,

Most famously!

He started out whole,

And was beat to death,

Left like garbage,

Without a breath;

Paralyzed in body,

Unable to do,

He fought and he pushed,

Until his paws did move;

Now he stands,

Wobbly as that is,

Takes back his life,

And all that is his.

PTR July 14, 2011