My son asked a question as little boys do
Of me in my wisdom and all that I knew.
Is there a dog that is perfect?” he asked on a whim,
Well, I thought and I thought about where to begin.
He’d have ears that were floppy… or cropped and alert
And eyes that were sleepy… or perky and pert,
He’d leap like a bunny or sit in your lap
And run fast as horses… or opt for a nap.
A dog that is perfect would be covered in spots
Or maybe one-color … and then have spots-not.
He’d be small as a teacup… or big as a house,
With a nose that seemed flattened … or long like a mouse,
He’d swim and he’d hunt with a coat flying free
Or be dainty and delicate … and “He’d” be a “She”
As I struggled to answer, and not with a clue,
My son, with a smile, said, out of the blue,
With the wisdom of children, what he already knew…
– John O’Hurley
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