His sporting days are over.
He shone at every meet.
Gliding like the angels,
On graceful ballet feet.
For his reward he needs a place,
To rest among the human race.
With dignity he turns to you,
His gentle heart seeking a hug or two;
Creature comforts to ease his day,
Some loving time to romp and play,
A pat on the head to say "well done."
And the prize he seeks,
You'll both have won.
Copyright, 1996, Betty Lawrence
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