This poem is about my “grand” dog, written by my grandson. Genealogy isn’t just about life and death facts, but about our lives as we live them!
Two months ago, I bought a dog,
A soft dog, not like a slimy frog.
Every morning, when I’m in my bed,
I wake up and see her small, furry head.
And when I take her outside,
I am always filled with pride.
When people compliment her adorable face,
Instead of calling her an ugly disgrace.
When I go inside and feed her lunch,
From the other room, I can hear a satisfied crunch.
While she sits by her water, lapping it up,
I kneel and admire my new little pup.
While I sit and watch TV,
My dog is sitting next to me.
While on her back, she lets out a snore,
A little sound which I adore.
When it’s time for bed,
I once again see her head.
This time, she’s ready for sleep,
A memory I’ll always keep.