by Christine Adams Beckett

Since my pen is frozen in grief over the loss of our beloved family pet, Pooch, I shall rely on the eloquence of another today.

Four Feet

I have done mostly what men do,

And punched it out of my mind;

But I can’t forget, if I wanted to,

Four-Feet trotting behind.

Day after day, the whole day through —

Wherever my road inclined–

Four-Feet said, ‘I am coming with you!’

And trotted along behind.

Now I must go by some other round–

Which I shall never find–

Some where that does not carry the sound

Of Four-Feet trotting behind.

Rudyard Kipling