The Old Dog Cannot Run Poem by Saint Eule

Sitting on the front porch as his usual habit,
too old to care or even chase a rabbit.
His fur falling out and his life is almost done,
He does not get excited and the old dog cannot run.

He groans when we pass him on the porch,
He whimpers when we leave him out to long.
He is no use for hunting with the gun.
He is just an old dog that cannot run.

Sometimes i wonder why we keep him,
just another mouth to feed.
It seems he has been with us forever,
a white samoyed breed.

One day after an operation - I got a temperature 104.5,
it seem that sepsis has set in.
I needed to go to the ICU if my life where to be spared
and to be able to write again.

My wife was working the late shift and would not be home
for long.
No one could hear my cries for help the shivering and
shaking would prolong.

The old dog came to my bedside and saw my
sad condition and thinking I was dead.
He ran for help and woke my son, pulling him out of bed.

The doctors quickly went to work in the ICU, I remember
being there for a week or two.

Time went by and I returned home to see the old white dog
on the porch, a glow upon his grissly face.
He seemed to be quite happy, barely wagging his tail.
His love for me was more important than the chase.

Thank you -Harley.