The Woof of Honour
Today I met Scooby-Doo (named so by me) Dry blood still lingering on one ear, His scars had stories to tell, if you'd hear. His heart seemed to pace, his lungs in a race, So still and calm, giving company to a lonely stranger.. He was comforted by the familiarity, no harm or danger. Guarding, guiding, playful mate.. You wouldn't dare to tease his temper. With a tiny claw on the edge of each soft paw, He could rip anything into bone and tender.. I wonder if it was the same soul that fought for food and honour. °•°