I pick up my dog from the kerb
he has lost his leg
i do so miss his cuddles and nuzzles in my face
but he is but now a tripod in my square
oh little round hound i miss your love
there is no more but to wish you around
and your breathing slurping sound of a happy innocent life
that reminds me of my original sin
to be morbid and humane for you are not my dog
but i am yours as you are my god
if i pick up your wrong end and think your bum is your snout
forgive me as a stupid human who is but a clout
but you are a cuddly god for a savaged soul
and i will be dead but were it not for your heart.