A little Yorkie puppy looking lost and so alone, she was the smallest one so we decided to take her home. Quiet and still she’d sleep up on the stairs, hidden in the shadows you wouldn’t know she was there. The quite little puppy is now fully grown, and runs the whole house just as if it were her own! Bossing the cats and our other dog to, she’s always telling them and us all what to do. Her short little legs posed in a bossy stance, “I want to go out and I don’t care how, so, stop what you’re doing and take me now!” With steel coloured curls and silky golden hair, she wants what she wants, and doesn’t care. You can almost see her in high heeled shoes, and her paws on her hips as she’s telling you, “I want it now so don’t get cross, just remember my name’s Baby, and Baby’s the Boss!”
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Posted: May 2014
About this poem:
First written: 14th July 1997. This was my Mothers yorkie dog. She lived to about thirteen years old, and unfortunately developed epilepsy and eventually had to be put to sleep because it could not be controlled in the end even with medication.
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