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My Gift

By Sandy Carroll

My rescue dog never had a Christmas,

He was always around dumpsters and such,

Never had food from a bowl with his name,

Much less a kind person's touch.

Decorating for Christmas, I tossed him a ball,

But he'd never played before.

It was like he kept waiting and wondering,

If he'd get put out my door.

He had no idea how special he was,

I would have faced Christmas alone.

There would be no cards, or presents,

No happy voice on the phone.

I took him riding to look at the lights,

I think he saw dogs that he knew.

We ate us a burger at Sonic,

I think he had visited there too.

He slept on the bed; my old sock in his mouth,

Security takes on many forms.

I named him “Gift” cause I got him,

Around the time that Jesus was born.

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