He sits to the side ... out of the way

While the others beg head rubs, or force you to play.
His dark, liquid eyes watch your every move,
Hoping and waiting, his love to prove.
He was shown several times, a promising pup,
But something went wrong, as he grew up.
A picture of health, robust and strong.
Though his gait and his topline are really all wrong.

He's well-marked and handsome, but he seems to know,
That he'll never be put in a show.
He eats, he sleeps, not much more than that.
And maybe he's getting a little bit fat.

He loves to be brushed, when you have the time;
He waits his the end of the line.
You think of him, sure....but not really as much
As those promising pups, those specials and such.

So he sits and he waits....'til you have the time,
To make the same fuss, as you did in his prime.
A scrap of attention or a playful shove,
To him it means him it means love.

Author Unknown

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