Her fur in the morning is deadening white
But how does it matter I slept the whole night
The chill stayed out I didn’t need to hark
Her unpleasant stories and frantic bark!
Her eyes in the morning are watery grey
But how does it matter she makes not my day
My quilt was warm till the sun was up
My day was begot with the brewing cup!
Her look in the morning was piercingly pale
But how does it matter I slept quite well
I locked the door and shut out the curse
Peace was all mine agonies were hers!
Great poem reminding us to think of our animal friends who might be struggling to survive
The anguish of a stray dog memorably contrasted to human comforts
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This I feel is very unfair.... You should have shared a little of her agonies and allowed her a little of your peace!