AT THE POUND
Have you ever been to the pound to find a new pet of your own?
Cats and dogs, kittens and puppies all look so sad, lost and forlorn,
It is hard to choose one, but you cannot take them all back home,
So I would always pick the one that looked most thin, sad and lone.

At this moment we have our share of animals to love and care for,
Two cats is enough when they go crazy and seem like many more,
But I went with a friend a new kitten or small puppy to try to choose,
I was tempted to take an old dog on death row, soon his life to loose.

‘Last Week’ was written on a board over the cage where he sat
Large brown eyes so doleful and sad, yet what about each cat?
There was no fee to take him for he was alone on death row,
He deeply touched my tender heart so off home we did go.

His name was Tiger, I really don’t know why they called him that,
He frantically wagged his tail when he came in contact with each cat,
They seemed to understand why the dog was now part of our family,
He quickly settled down and seemed contented as an old dog could be.

His eyes grew bright and shining, his dull coat now glowed in the sun,
Into each heart great affection for dear old Tiger had really been won,
He lived for five more years or so, until he fell into his final sleep,
All the family including the two cats for him seemed to often weep.

(Millicent) Ann Margetson 19 March 2004