From lands of childhood dreams I came,
With comic pages, tales, and name.
And there—so bold, so white, so true—
Was Snowy, leaping into view.
Now here he lies with gentle grace,
A Maltipoo with lion’s face.
Adoring eyes, a knowing glance,
A mischief heart, a prance, a dance.
He asks for love in firm decree,
A bark, a paw, then looks at me—
As if to say, “You know the deal—
It’s time for walks, or time to squeal.”
With joy he charges through the day,
To chase the squirrels, then dart away.
A deer, perhaps? He dreams so bold—
In that small frame, a spirit old.
He gives, not asks—his love, a flood,
That soaks my soul, a healing bud.
He does not weigh what he receives,
He lives in hearts, not in beliefs.
A ride, a walk, a cuddle deep,
A lap to warm, a place to sleep.
With every wag, with every sigh,
He brings the stars down from the sky.
He makes a friend with every meet,
With tilted head and dancing feet.
He preens, he twirls—no need to try—
He is, quite simply, joy passed by.
So here’s to Snowy, wild and free,
A tale from childhood now with me.
A pup, a friend, a beating drum—
Of all the love that’s yet to come.
–Mani