|Barked: Mon Sep 1, '08 6:47am PST |
Here is the poem:
What is a Golden
A fluffy wind-up teddy-bear with shoe button eyes
and your best towel clutched in his teeth
Nobility reclining on a grassy bank
A white-faced old sportsman still keen
for the whistle of wings
In Spring a Golden will put mud on the carpets,
fur all over your best navy blue
and the flowering bloom of joy in your heart.
A Golden is a flame of colour
against dark summer covert,
the spray of surf sent flying
peace spread against cool earth.
He is competence wearing a guidance harness,
pride with a bird in his mouth,
dignity wanting his tummy rubbed,
elegance working in the swampland.
A Golden has the understanding of a saint
and a tail that challenges perpetual motion.
Having a golden Retriever is never knowing where
all your shoes are at any given moment,
Hearing the neighbours call up because he's sleeping
out in the snow instead of in his kennel,
Keeping cups off the table because of his wild tail,
and not being sure if you paragon will decimate a
burglar or fix him a cup of tea and show him where
the silver is
Somebody else with a Golden is an instant acquaintance.
Your veterinarian wishes all his patients were
Golden'sand you just wish you were as great
as your Golden thinks you are.
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