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Though he is seven years old maybe forty-two in a way, He loves to drag his toys outside and throw the around everyday But when you want him to lay down or even come inside He acts as though he has no name and goes someplace to hide His fur is the sun the way it always shines And the way he loudly crunches his food every night when he dines The most important fact though is when he gets icky and wet He smells like a rainy day and loves for me his coat to pet And though he gets on my nerves with the way he barks and whines I remember all the fun we have I remember that he is mine!
INKY
