His dark brown eyes
crying out
Looking up to us for attention
Always waiting for a hand out
Ever patient waiting for someone
to pat him
His face old, grey, one that is loved
His tail wagging
As the back door opens, his face lights up
Lights up in hope of a hand out
Racing excitedly around your feet
Running laps around you
His eyes scream, is it walkies time?
Or dinner time?
He is our loved dog
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