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The Blind Guiding The Blind ©

John Murray
Larkhall, Scotland

Looking up every few seconds with those small sad eyes,
Walking alongside me and head held high,
A few short paces then a quick stop for a scratch,
Those bushes didnít help her stay clean,
That puddle of mud dirtying all over her paws,
She is trained; she knows how to obey the laws,
Tail in the air, back legs straight, chest out as to be seen,
Her coat is clean; her coat is silky smooth,
Black and white is what colour she is.

Sharp hearing although slightly blind, she is fierce,
Lying sleeping with all four paws at full stretch,
Brings me almost to tears,
That I know she can never experience the game fetch,
All my dog Patch can do is carry on walking with guidance,
She is independent but still needs help to feed her,
I always wondered why she looked at me the way she does,
Itís not for me to rush or slow down or make a fuss,
The scent of me next to her walking is the only reason why,
She looks up at me every few seconds with those small sad eyes.

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