Sage

I didn’t know what to expect,

when I saw that dog for the first time

I thought, he must have someone to love him

Someone to sing him a rhyme

He smelled terrible, blood dripped

from his ears

Making me think, ‘he’s been abused

for years!’

His many-colored-coat hung

in greased strings

He was matted and had overgrown nails,

above all things

So I brought him home

I put him on the run

I thought, ‘mom will hate him, soon my

time with him will be done’

But she didn’t

She loved him so.

He was afraid of adults

But she didn’t let him go

Two weeks later, he was mine to show

His ears began to heal

His fur began to shine

Upon his dinner, he began to dine

He sleeps on a blanket

In the dining room

Forever bothered by Ni-Ni

Who I’d like to hit with a broom.

Sage is seven years old

Though if you’ve ever looked him

in his blue eyes

You would’ve never been told;

For he believes he’s young

In his heart maybe he still has some oomph

But his body just wants to sleep

His hips are bad

He cannot play

Sometimes to see him makes me terribly sad

He has to take medicine, to make him move

But when he’s outside, boy does he groove!

He bips and he bops, he jumps and he trots

When he is like that, my heart just swells.

By Michelle Craigmiles

Philips W. Sugg Middle School

Related Stories