PETRONIUS
A dog there was, Petronius by name—
A cur of no degree, yet which the same
Rejoiced him; because so worthless he
That in his worthlessness remarkably
He shone, th' example de luxe of how a cur
May be the very limit of a slur
Upon the honored name of dog; a joke
He was, a satire blasphemous; he broke
The records all for sheer insulting "bunk;"
No dog had ever breathed who was so punk!
And yet that cur, Petronius by name,
Enkindled in his master's heart a flame
Of love, affection, reverence, so rare
That had he been an angel bright and fair
The homage paid him had been less; you see
The red-haired boy who owned him had a bee—
There was no other dog on land or sea.
Petronius was solid; he just was
The dog, the only dog on earth, because—
Because a red-haired boy who likes his dog,
He likes that dog so much no other dog
Exists—and that, my friends, is loyalty,
Than which there is no grander ecstasy.
Frederic P. Ladd.
MY DOG
Here is a friend who proves his worth
Without conceit or pride of birth.
Let want or plenty play the host,
He gets the least and gives the most—
He's just a dog.
He's ever faithful, kind and true;
He never questions what I do,
And whether I may go or stay,
He's always ready to obey
'Cause he's a dog.
Such meager fare his want supplies!
A hand caress, and from his eyes
There beams more love than mortals know;
Meanwhile he wags his tail to show
That he's my dog.