For all the faithful little dogs
That ever lived, no matter where,
I make a simple song today
      And fling it on the air,--

For little dogs too small to hunt,
Or guide, or guard their man's possessions,
Or do enormous deeds, too small
     In fact, to have professions,

Who never found a chance for fame,
And never could their fealty prove
By doing any single thing
     But love, and love, and love!

To all those eager little dogs
Of any place and any time
Who gave their best with might and main,
     I dedicate this rhyme!


From Silver Saturday (Dodd, Mead & Company, 1937)
This poem is in the public domain.