I like a dog at my feet when I read,
Whatever his size or whatever his breed.
A dog now and then that will nuzzle my hand
As though I were the greatest of men in the land,
And trying to tell me it’s pleasant to be
On such intimate terms with a fellow like me.
I like a dog at my side when I eat,
I like to give him a bit of my meat;
And though mother objects and insists it is bad
To let dogs in the dining room, still I am glad
To behold him stretched out on the floor by my chair.
It’s cheering to see such a faithful friend there.
A dog leads a curious life at the best.
By the wag of his tail is his pleasure expressed.
He pays a high tribute to man when he stays
True to his friend to the end of his days.
And I wonder sometimes if it happens to be
That dogs pay no heed of the faults which men see.
Should I prove a failure; should I stoop to wrong;
Be weak at a time when I should have been strong;
Should I lose my money, the gossips would sneer
And fill with my blundering many an ear,
But still, as I opened my door, I should see
My dog wag his tail with a welcome for me.
– Edgar A. Guest