and I find another memory |
I want a dog. A little dog, who can be a Big Dog when he grows up. That's what dogs do, when they grow up. A puppy for now, rolly, playful. No chains, no tags. No collar for him. Just freedom and puppy chow. No dog doors to go out or in. Just carry him around. Just carry him around. I want a dog. A little dog, who can be a Big Dog when he grows up. He can wander with me, be my friend, ride in my back pack. I can love him, he can love me. We will stand strong. No collar for him or me. Just freedom to grow, to gnaw, to know, to be. I want a dog. A little dog, who can be a Big Dog when he grows up. That's what dogs do, when they grow up. Puppies are more human than people I know, possessing love, tenderness, caring, as they grow. Puppies grow fast. Even puppyhood can't last. So we will run while we can. Do things I missed back then, or things I did. Or things I did. |