A Lodge Called Hope

Today is Spencer my departed Frenchie's birthday. 

You should be 10-years old. 

You should be my 3-year-old daughter's best friend.

You should be getting ready for Boston springtime walks with me. 

Instead, you are not here. I miss you. I am cleaning out my work desk, in preparation for an office move, and saw this Limerick thumbtacked to my wall: 

Who wrote that? A real cancer survivor. After he "rung the bell" to signal his remission, he immediately sought you to read it aloud and give you his "Golden Mensh Award." You did that. 

I loved volunteering with you. You made such an impact. 

I picture you waiting for us to walk through the doors. When we eventually do, as death's arrow spare's no one, I will give the biggest pet. 

Limerick

There is a lodge called Hope 
Filled with people, who are able to cope
They have strength, courage and love
and share these traits with friends and above
So be a believer and Joy will be your tote