Growing old with me
Is my little dachshund
She is 17 years old
Four decades older me than

The hair on my head is silver
Her muzzle has lost its mahogany
And we both have more girth
Than we should carry

She still has a spring in her step
Curiosity in her eye
There's nothing wrong with her
Sense of smell or appetite

I no longer run and jump
Walking is more my style
But now I take my time to
Smell the roses, appreciate our life