‘Twas stormy when he came to us....
‘Twas stormy rain outside....
‘Twas stormy when he had his fight....
‘Twas stormy when he died....
The lightning flashed, the thunder rolled....
The rain came pouring down....
And all the world seemed wrapped in fear....
When Stormy came to town....
A tiny little ball of fur....
As black as he could be....
He cheered us so that we forgot....
Outside ‘twas black as he....
The next day as the winds passed on....
Ole Stormy stayed behind....
And though the ground was sloppy mud....
He never seemed to mind....
He snapped at butterflies galore....
‘Tho never caught a one....
The squirrels he chased around the trees....
And barked, “‘Tis all in fun”....
He dug the gophers from their holes....
And scampered in the rain....
Then, just to top his fun-filled day....
He’d stroll his favorite lane....
One night, when all was dark and quiet....
Though lightning flashed o’erhead....
Soft thunder in the distance rolled....
To cause me stir in bed....
The winds began to brush the house....
The wetting rain to fall....
My shivers didn’t start until....
I heard that eerie call....
Yes, Stormy’s wail so loud and clear....
Swept through my sleepy brain....
I could not know, nor could I guess....
What caused such ghastly pain....
I jumped from bed, and ran outside....
I felt my hackles rise....
Prepared, I thought, for all except....
The sight that met my eyes....
I heard his muffled cry above....
The pounding of my heart....
Like savage beasts, a pack of dogs....
Were tearing him apart....
One had his ear, and one his leg....
And one his underside....
They pulled and tugged. They snapped and stretched....
And tore his glossy hide....
Then fear gave way to anger as....
I rushed to where he lay....
I pulled a huge dog from his neck....
And kicked two more away....
The pack retreated snarlingly....
And when the last had fled....
I saw the mud where Stormy lay....
Was turning crimson red....
His whimpers as I picked him up....
Were more than I could bear....
The drops rolled from my tear-filled eyes....
Onto his matted hair....
His eyes were closed, his breathing loud....
When Jennie made his bed....
We washed and treated all his wounds....
And brushed his throbbing head....
For days, he neither lived nor died....
And naught else felt, but pain....
He cared not who was at his side....
He cared not for his lane....
One night my knees were at his side....
I touched him tenderly....
The touch aroused a fear in him....
He snarled, and snapped at me....
His teeth imbedded in my flesh....
I did not wear a glove....
His tongue came out; He licked my hand....
His final show of love....
His head fell back, his eyelids closed....
His chest exhaled his breath....
Yes, he was black and beautiful....
Now freed, at last, by death....
‘Twas stormy when he came to us....
‘Twas stormy rain outside....
‘Twas stormy when he had his fight....
‘Twas stormy when he died....
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