For I will consider my dog Percy.

For he was made small but brave of heart.

For if he met another dog he would kiss her in kindness.

For when he slept he snored only a little.

For he could be silly and noble in the same moment.

For when he spoke he remembered the trumpet and when 
     he scratched he struck the floor like a drum.

For he ate only the finest food and drank only the 
     purest of water, yet would nibble of the dead fish also.

For he came to me impaired and therefore certain of 
     short life, yet thoroughly rejoiced in each day.

For he took his medicines without argument.

For he played easily with the neighborhood’s bull 
     mastiff.

For when he came upon mud he splashed through it.

For he was an instrument for the children to learn 
     benevolence upon.

For he listened to poems as well as love-talk.

For when he sniffed it was as if he were being 
     pleased by every part of the world.

For when he sickened he rallied as many times as
     he could.

For he was a mixture of gravity and waggery.

For we humans can seek self-destruction in ways 
     he never dreamed of.

For he took actions both cunning and reckless, yet 
     refused always to offer himself to be admonished.

For his sadness though without words was 
     understandable.

For there was nothing sweeter than his peace 
     when at rest.

For there was nothing brisker than his life when 
     in motion.

For he was of the tribe of Wolf.

For when I went away he would watch for me at 
     the window.

For he loved me.

For he suffered before I found him, and never 
     forgot it.

For he loved Anne.

For when he lay down to enter sleep he did not argue 
     about whether or not God made him.

For he could fling himself upside down and laugh 
     a true laugh.

For he loved his friend Ricky.

For he would dig holes in the sand and then let 
     Ricky lie in them.

For I often see his shape in the clouds and this is a 
     continual blessing.