Hilda.

'Twas the week before Xmas, a cold chill in the air,
In the café people sat amongst the Christmas fair.
Kennel staff worked hard and long whilst visitors looked around,
Buying Xmas presents, among the bargains found.

The shop was full to bursting, people spending, having fun,
Whilst I was in the "Old Woofs" block, looking in the runs.
My eyes fell on an old dog, whose legs were thin and weak,
Her head too big for her body, if only she could speak.

Her eyes held a sadness, I'm sure she sensed her fate,
All reason went right there and then as I opened the kennel gate.
With wobbly legs she came to me and wagged her mighty tail,
So tired, thin and helpless, she looked so old and frail.

I held her to my body; she looked at me as if to say
"Well, I am coming home with you, for lunch on Xmas day".
I knew I couldn't leave her here, to end her days this way
So out she came, I took her home, for lunch on Xmas day.

She settled down and soon became a star in her own right,
I'm so glad I took her home with me on that December night

Pat Graham.

Hilda

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