All of a sudden I am very old, and all my podge is nothing now but skin,
And people say that I'm a "bag of bones" or "isn't that one thin!"
My eyes are not as bright, they cannot see as far nor yet as true,
But still they look with truth and melting love when they see you.
I cannot chase the Dustmen from the yard, nor climb the hill,
But still I scramble to my feet and take my stand upon the floor
(Though weaving) when I hear your step or see you coming through the door.
My teeth are crooked now, one ear is bald, I'm not a pretty sight,
Sleep fills my days, I amble through lush grass and greet Sun,
Remembering lost loves and puppies that I had when I was young.
Though you still have other dogs more active, sleek of skin, bright eyed and bold,
But still remember me, the one who loves you best, though I am old.

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