She sat there huddled all alone,
As if with the others she did not belong.
One glance and one could detect
Her young life was filled with neglect,
She had not received her fair share
Of her mother's love and care.
She was just an eight ounce pup.
While the others to their mother did flee,
With fear and trembling, she came to me.
The plea in her eyes seemed to convey
A message with words she could not say.
Such courage and trust on her part,
She quickly won over my heart.
That eight ounce pup.
Frail, weak, and half-naked was she;
Yet in her face, beauty I could see.
In such a sad state was her health,
We took her to Dr Burch for his help.
She had no name for us to quote,
So on her chart he simply wrote:
An eight ounce pup.
Her tiny tail wiggled with glee
When first her "daddy" she did see.
So on that bright April morn,
A special bond was quickly formed.
Once again as with me
T'was she who chose and not he.
That eight ounce pup.
She shared our life, our home, our bed,
And from our table she was fed.
Such a tiny creature was she,
She soon became known as Peewee.
She learned to play, bark, even grin,
And became our companion, our baby, our friend.
That eight ounce pup.
By her daddy's side she liked to walk,
And with him she even tried to talk.
With other animals she had no part;
She made that plain from the very start.
Human she thought herself to be;
Sometimes she fooled even me.
That eight ounce pup.
Unconditional love she gave us all.
She gave so much for one so small.
But when she was put to the test,
She left no doubt, she loved "daddy" best.
With a furious snarl and fierce bite,
She would protect him with all her might.
That eight ounce pup.
Whether it was "daddy's" work or play,
Close by his side she would stay.
And when she chose to take a nap,
There was no place like his lap.
Thus the years came and went,
And her life on earth was spent.
That eight ounce pup.
The eyes that once shown so bright
Were now almost void of sight.
Her body shook with terrible disease;
We tried in vain her pains to ease.
As her last year on earth had begun,
Closer to her "daddy" she clung.
That eight ounce pup.
In his arms only would she sleep,
And from his hands only would she eat.
He gave her such tender loving care;
Night and day he was always near.
Then one drear December day
Death came and took her away.
Our eight ounce pup.
If by the hand of our God divine
Home up there includes a canine,
When we hear that trumpet sound,
I have no doubt where she'll be found.
She'll surely watch, listen, and wait
For her "daddy" at the gate.
That eight ounce pup.
