Few memories remain
from when I was Five.
One that does, is still alive.
Her name was Penny,
a copper colored,
old Cocker Spaniel Dog.
Mostly blind, moved only slowly
deep into her last few years.
We lived across the street about
a block from my Grade School.
How she did it I will never know,
but every day when the dismissal bell rang
at 3:00, just outside my class room door,
There all alone, Penny would be,
Her old Sweet face waiting for me.
Like clock work as if she knew
the exact time of day,
she crossed the busy avenue
walked up the street and went
straight to my class room.
After greeting me with a lick or two,
she dutifully walked me home from school.
If a person thinks that a dog
has no real love to give,
I would politely, advisedly say
"Sadly, in this one fact, you are
greatly mistaken."
For two years that old canine friend made
that journey, maybe she missed a day or two.
No one taught her this "trick" she figured it out
on her own. We moved to another town when
I was seven and shortly there after dear old
Penny died. When the dismissal bell chimed,
It took me a while to adjust to the
disappointment that she was not
outside still waiting for me.
But, I shall never forget her.