Angus

Lying on your back,
Snoring with a rhythm.
Your fur is as soft as a meadow,
You’re as old as the hills
I’ve had you all my life,
We don’t do much together
Barking with a groan whilst your stubby tail is wagging
No one thinks you’re perfect
Your one eye fools them
To think that you are less than you are
But you are filled with love and care