“The Blank Somebody’s left the garden gate ajar; He won’t run out. No need to back the car So carefully because . . . And in the hall You will not trip against that much-chewed ball (I bought a new one, just a week ago, For his next birthday. He will never know). We’ve cleared up everything; there’s not a trace- Lead, collar, basket -- yet his wistful face Peers round each corner; halfway down the stair One turns expectant . . . surely he is there? Then you remember, and the silence dear Answers our question. “No, he is not here.” PoemDeath Of A Dog Book:My Dog and Yours Source: My Dog and Yours
“My First Kill ‘Twas Burton showed me where it was and told me not to wait, Whilst Walter moved the dust bin out and shut the garden gate; Then master said, “Now, here’s your chance; come on, my flop-eared son” (I must admit, until he spoke, I felt inclined to run); Maria whacked it with her broom, and then sat down and cried, And Cookie screamed and frightened it before she ran inside; The cat said, “After you, old chap; he’s rather big for me, So I shan’t interfere at all,” and scrambled up a tree; Next someone threw a lump of coal and made the beast turn round; Then—I went in and finished it and flung it on the ground. So that is how I caught the rate entirely on my own, And Master’s pleased as pleased can be; he’s gone to fetch a bone.” PoemDogs Book:My Dog and Yours Source: My Dog and Yours