A Poem For Max Poem by James L. A. Huetson

She was a loose woman,
A street tramp.
And she was very, very pregnant.
A small, black vamp.

A deputy noticed her
And picked her up.
It was in middle summer.
He fed her water from his cup.

She was fairly dirty
And didn’t smell too good,
But her eyes were pretty.
She came in, and there she stood.

She was a little black dog,
Probably two years old.
Representing a prologue
To a life, which will be told.

So then she had to be jailed
And off she went to the shelter.
If her previous owner failed
To claim her she’d have a new owner.

While she awaited her incarceration
She approached a different officer.
Then with a paw upon his leg, and no hesitation,
She showed him her love and became his master.

She made a pair a family
When he took her home to his lady.
She had won their hearts completely,
They became her mommy and her daddy.

Daddy would chase rabbits with her,
His long legs a pumping.
Step just hard enough on a grasshopper,
And slow it down for gulping.

She cornered a possum in her yard
Late one night and it was hissing.
Daddy grabbed a mop to hit the possum hard.
While holding the dog back he knew he was missing.
Max is the name used
Before they found what was her gender.
It left her a little confused
Wondering if she was a sitter or a pointer.

Her mommy’s lap was just a jump
That Max would make each evening.
To settle down in mommy’s lap
And spend time TV watching.

Nine good years of love, fun, and play,
She hunted, stalked, and captured,
All the different kinds of prey.
No difference whether squirrel, rabbit or bird.

Then age and illness wore her down.
Her breath and heart were failing.
Daddy sat on the floor beside her his own
Heart sick and bursting.

Her mommy heard her horrible groan
And was stricken with a fearful pain.
Daddy said, “This can’t go on”
And called the veterinarian.

At the office they gave Max a shot.
Her breath struggle was easing.
Daddy’s calming hand stroked her soft.
Heart bursting, he let her go with his blessing.