Yea, I look with my eye upon this rich offering of the relics of cheese
And find it also with the multitudinous receptors of my nose.
And, behold, this offering is offered by the hand of human to me alone.
But what shall it profit a dog to gain all of the cheese rinds
If she lose the canine companion of her begging hours?
Yea, and my aged legs that have known many years of perambulation
Carry me among this surfeit of nests for my tired bones.
See how they gather in layers of softness--
The duplex of beds, the club sandwich of beds--
To nestle this houndly hide of mine.
But what shall it profit a dog to have only to herself
All of the dog beds of the denning place
If she lose the curly coated companion of her napping hours?
I shall take from your hand, my companion, this offering of cheese rinds,
And I shall rest my hide upon this tower of beds.
Shall that console us for the absence we cannot fill?
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