When humans die, they make a will
To leave their homes and all they have
To those they love.
I, too, would make a will if I could write.
To some poor wistful lonely stray
I leave my happy home,
My dish, my cosy bed, my cushioned chair, my toy,
The well loved lap, the gently stroking hand,
The loving voice,
The place I made in someone’s heart,
The love, that at the last could help me to
A peaceful painless end
Held in loving arms.
If I should die Oh do not say,
"No more a pet I’ll have
To grieve me by its loss"
Seek out some lonely, unloved dog
And give my place to him.
This is my legacy I leave behind
‘Tis all I have to give.