The little black dog

I wonder if Christ
had a little black dog,
All curly and wooly,
like mine;
With two long silky ears,
and a nose round and wet,
And two brown eyes so tender
that shine.

I’m afraid that he hadn’t because
I have read,
How he prayed in the garden alone,
for all his friends and disciples
had fled
Even Peter, the one called a stone.

And I am so sure that
the little black dog,
With heart so tender and warm,
Would never have left him to
suffer alone,
But creeping right under his arm
Would have licked the dear fingers in agony clasped,
And counting all favours but loss.

When they took Him away,
Would have trotted behind,
And followed Him
right to the cross.
– Anonymous (Sent by Eileen, Agra)