Spud his name, my handsome friend
When fist we met, a tiny dot, in my hand he sat
His trust in me would never end
From tiny kit to gorgeous boy, out of his litter box he shat
Bare feet beware in early morn!
How many tales I here could tell
Of how we shared our days
He saw me as young bride trying
Gave comfort as I grew sad and dull
With husband drinking more, and lying
Through tough divorce, and near collapse
My constant friend held close
Jealous of new love
Perfected sulky pose.
But new man learned to feed and clap ( Scottish for petting)
And soon Spud came around
For first time Spud had man friend now
As we travelled north to settle new ground
My boy grew older, but never showed;
His handsome face content
So strong and fit ( big boned, not fat!)
My shock, so suddenly he went
In one short day from well to ill
And sad decision made. I held him, stroked his head so soft
As last breath left. I cried bereft
My loved friend gone