There you were all alone, the last of the litter, the others are gone.

It took only a minute for anyone to see, there’s no doubt, you’d be going home with me.

A hasty decision some may say, deep in my heart I said “no way”.

At eight weeks old we started to train, even in the bitter cold or the pouring down rain.

Looking in your eyes you never seem to complain, I saw something special, I couldn’t explain.

The days went fast you learned with ease, I never saw a dog so eager to please.

You’re a pleasure to watch that statement is true, for your desire to hunt comes from deep inside you.

You’re my companion, my best friend, It will remain that way to the bitter end.

Though I dread that day, when the man up stairs, will take you away.

 I may morn or may even cry, for I know this is it, the final good bye.

I’ll hold my head up and try not to be blue, for I know that God needs a hunting dog too.

Ron Prince