This laboured Labrador went waddling by,
His awkward gait the legacy of time,
The tragic loss of youth's vitality,
What once were walks, now mountains he must climb.

Did he explore and roam and wander free? ,
And rest fireside when day was almost done,
Then rage along with endless energy,
When lead would slacken, giving way to fun.

And did he chase and fetch and froth at mouth? ,
But on occasion disobey his call,
His senses drowned by freedom all about,
Fun being so fulfilling after all.

Could it be now his age fills him with dread? ,
Or does he simply just ignore the fact? ,
His path's bound for his fellow canine dead,
No need to contemplate, the final act.

Greg Costello

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/growing-older-5/