A Dog's Prayer, p. 2

and my tail from swinging doors.
When we’re on a deserted beach
and I scamper off chasing birds,
help me feel joy, not be ashamed
if I ignore those “Come here!” words,
Keep freckled-face children ignorant
of my sly cookie-snatching schemes.
And though cats can be my friends,
let me chase them in my dreams.
Shoo away the two neighbor boys
when I rest in the maple tree’s shade.
They always want me fetching sticks.
Can't they learn a hobby or a trade?
Send me some suckers, Lord,
so my sad face will be able
to hook their naïve sympathy
and get food under the table.
Help my friends to understand
how my bark differs from my growl,
and grant them the tolerance to endure
my silent farts most foul.
Let me nap on the cozy couch
while they drive to the grocery store,
and if I’m lost, return me home
this, Lord, I do implore.
Remind them to roll down the windows
when they leave me inside a car,
and if traveling makes me queasy,
don’t make our trips too far.
May flea and tick prevention meds
keep those pests off my skin,
and when I roll in something gross
just forgive this impulsive sin.
Let my people sometimes ponder
if I can read minds, or have a soul,
and have their kids keep track of time
when they tie my leash to a pole.
And if I don’t ever win a ribbon
for best of show or breed,
award me with love anyway
for this is what I really need.
Finally, when I grow old and feeble,
let folks know when I can no longer cope,
then Lord, tell them to lay me to rest,
not to hold onto their false hope.