A CHRISTMAS CARD FOR GUS.

A CHRISTMAS CARD FOR GUS.


Christmas greetings always bring such pleasure to my friends.
I send out cards and messages at this time when each year ends.
I have a dear friend, travelling, with her man and little Gus,
They span the land, working as they go, in a well equipped green bus.

Because they move about so much, some may think it strange,
I have to send their mail to them - to a Post Box mail exchange.
They pick it up when they pass through or, if it is marked "Urgent",
They ring and tell the Postal folk where letters can be sent.

Little Gus is growing fast and I thought it would be fun
To send a Christmas card to him - a very personal one.
I used to add his name under those of Mum and Dad,
A special card addressed to him would make this fellow glad.

Now when one goes and picks up mail from a central mailing place,
You must provide some true ID and a photo of your face.
Poor dear Gus had none of these, he's only twelve you see,
He could not have his Christmas card - the one I sent - from me!

His Mum she hurried home so fast and fossicked through her files,
She found his birth certificate and his photograph ( she smiles).
Back down to the Office she presented them, as asked,
So pleased that she was able to perform, for Gus, this task.

She handed Gus his mail and gave his head a pat.
Gus just stared with big brown eyes, "For me? Who sent me that?"
"Your Aunty Meg sent you this card. She did it for a lark!"
He wagged his tail and trotted off, then gave a happy bark.







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My friend Gus







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October 2012.

Alas, I heard the sad report, the vet gave Gus's Mum.
The little man was not the best: I felt my heart go numb.
His hearing lost, his legs were weak, and eyes were growing dim,
They must decide, and very soon, what would be best for him.

With heavy hearts and teary eyes - they weren't ashamed to weep -
Gus wagged his tail, licked their hands, and went peacefully to sleep.
They had a little service, friends and neighbours came to call,
And now he rests beneath a tree, in the yard of Uncle Paul.

One by one, the gifts appeared, placed on and 'round his grave.
It shows the love and friendship that this little fellow gave.
We will all miss Gus, it's true, and the patter of his feet
Will be heard in doggie Heaven, where new friends he's sure to meet.





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