Christine thinks that because I was born in Stratford-upon-Avon I might be related to the immortal bard and I should try my hand at writing a poem so - here goes!

(with aplogies to William Shakespeare)

All the world's a walk and all our four-legged friends are merely walkers

They have their setting off and coming home

and one dog in her time has many roles.

At first she is the cuddly puppy

Innocent and charming in her clumsyness

And then the young dog, always keen to learn,

Each new trick a jewel in her crown.

Some dogs are to a working life assigned

Some fight crime and others lead the blind.

Guarding a warehouse or bringing in the sheep

Happy that their talents have been recognised.

They hold their heads up high and fix you with a gaze,

that says it all. "I've proved my usefulness"

No less important are the family pets

Unparalleled in loyalty and charm

Fetching a slipper or a stick

for Prince or poor man (to dogs they're all the same)

Let's not forget the cruel hand of Fate

deals some poor dogs a less than happy home

Some are rejected, like last season's coat

and tossed aside, or, even worse abused

All power to those who strive to end this wrong

and give these uncomplaining creatures Hope.

For man, and dog old age is still the same,

the bones will start to ache and senses fail.

But pleasure still is seen in nice warm fire,

a tasty meal, kind words and pat on furry head.

And dreams of puppy games, in comfy bed.