Beau's Limerick

An Ode to Beau
(in the form of a Limerick)

His spirit survives good ole Beau
I can tell you exactly how I know
Just simply recall
a dirty yellow ball
That he tosses to a child...just so

Beau had many good traits
among his admirers he rates
but then he would retreat
and lay down in the street
as his friend Holly often relates

Whenever we'd start on a walk
no hesitancy, reluctance, or balk
But he'd turn toward any noise
Hoping it would be three boys
emotion as clear as if he could talk

If he didn't want to leave the Park
He wouldn't resist, run, or bark
but he'd hide in plain sight
as if suddenly it was night
who is he kidding we'd remark

If sometimes, he was not invited
we wouldn't get all that excited
we'd just say no
we simply will not go
But if he's included we'd be delighted

When Kath and I would fight
either morning, noon, or night,
he's come to us
interrupt the fuss
and lie closer to whoever was right

We will miss Beau very much
his endearing habits and such
as we think of him
our memories not dim
of his presence and his touch