few lines of poetry as an homage to a doggie

[Jeannie Hopkirk]

I've read you all for while, but have never had sufficient reason to post.

I'm searching for a few lines of poetry to frame with a beloved doggie photo.
He was a mischevious, brilliant, complicated, funny, moody, sweet, demanding shih za poo mutt whom my husband and I loved for 18 years.

Of course, it's like trying to find the right lines to describe the loss of one's own child and nearly impossible.

I've not yet found the lines that suit this creature and suggestions are welcome.

Cheerio,
JH

[Petrarch's Love]

Jeannie--I'm sorry to hear about your loss. I know how difficult it can be to say goodbye to a beloved pet, and it sounds like your shih za poo has given you many happy memories to treasure. I've pasted a few doggy poems that I've always liked below. I hope you find the words you're looking for either here or elsewhere. Maybe you could even try writing a little something yourself. I've found myself that writing is a helpful way to work through loss.


FOUR FEET

I have done mostly what men do,
And pushed it out of my mind;
But I can't forget, if I wanted to,
Four-Feet trotting behind.

Day after day, the whole day through--
Wherever my road inclined--
Four-Feet said, 'I am coming with you!'
And trotted along behind.

Now I must go by some other round--
Which I shall never find--
Some where that does not carry the sound
Of Four-Feet trotting behind.

~Rudyard Kipling
--------------------
Near this spot are deposited the remains of one who
possessed Beauty without Vanity,
Strength without Insolence,
Courage without Ferocity,
and all the Virtues of Man,
without his Vices.
This Praise, which would be unmeaning
Flattery if inscribed over human
ashes is but a just tribute to the Memory
of Boatswain,a Dog.

~Lord Byron
--------------------

Old Dogs Do Not Die

We have a secret, you and I,
That no one else shall know,
For who but I can see you lie,
Each night, in fireglow?
And who but I can reach my hand
Before we go to bed,
And feel the living warmth of you
And touch your silken head?
And only I walk woodland paths,
And see, ahead of me,
Your small form racing with the wind,
So young again, and free.
And only I can see you swim
In every brook I pass...
And, when I call, no one but I
Can see the bending grass...

~Author Unknown