Oh, Millie–
A lick on the face,
A stolen biscuit off the plate.
She’d share your space, When you don’t feel great.
The best kind of friend,
Right up till the end.
Oh, Millie! We’ll miss you.
And
We hope you now know, About where you’ll go–
We’ve heard
All dogs go to heaven.
Well, it looks like I've majorly lapsed on the poem-a-day habit. Not to worry. I'm taking a short break to finish the Balkey story line....
“What,” the young, scarred and scabbed Scib said, “did Mr. Pin calm him – Bixson-” And Balkey closed the gap as soon as the word left the...
Tell him Coral has finally gone sour and the Pin is as crooked as we all thought,” fryed Balkey and eyed the straight and tall, the...