The sun rose in the east beside the court.
"It's 30 love!" My friend had made the call.
I hit the ball and serve did not stop short.
On dewy grass I'm chasing tennis ball.
Carnations in the garden poised to maul.
The muddy paw prints quickening with haste.
it's oblivious, I was about to fall.
Inside my mouth the blood was all I taste,
As teeth tore skin, atop my skull was laced.
It took a while before dogs mouth would ease.
No pain while dying there, heart slowly paced
Who knew that St Bernard would have disease.
For thirty seconds lifeless; parents cried,
if not for Edward Brunton I'd have died.
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