The puppy

Poems in support of strays

Dear Editor,

A poetic contribution in respect of the sad situation in Portugal. Please support the animal charities.

I adopted a puppy that was one of a litter of eight born to a stray. She was playing on an empty plot, kicking an empty water bottle about.

Now she is four years and the best dog I could ever wish for.

The puppy

They think a puppy playing happily,

Is the perfect gift for their family.

But when the puppy is fully grown,

They struggle to leave him home alone.

They have no garden where he can play.

He is on the balcony all of the day.

Then come the vet bills one by one.

Sooner or later something must be done.

One Sunday morning, not too late,

They depart the city to enact its fate.

Down in the pinewoods near the sea,

They tie their poor puppy to a tree.

But there are so many strays at this time of year,

Roaming the lanes close to here.

Some were so thin they collapsed by the wayside.

Nothing could help them they slowly died.

A few find homes with kindly folk,

But many people have hearts of oak.

They are kicked and beaten and chased away,

To try and survive another day!

Sandra Pressman

by email