When God calls little puppies to dwell with Him above,
We humans always question the wisdom of His love.
For no heartache can compare with the loss of one small 'child',
Who does so much to make this world seem wonderful and mild.
Perhaps God tires - always calling the aged to His fold,
And so He picks a rosebud before it can grow old.
God knows how much we need them and so He picks but few;
To make the land of heaven more beautiful to view.
Believing this is difficult, yet somehow we must try,
For the saddest word that mankind knows will always be "good-bye".
And so when little pups depart;
We, who are left behind, must realize how much God loves
For angels are hard to find.
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