Bagli was a small town, when first we heard the name

Then Bagli was our bounciest dog, always ready for a game.

Now Bagli is buried, and haunts our days and nights

With memories of playing ball, shredding coconut-husk and other memorable sights.

From when she was a little pup, we had trained her not to roam,

And her personality was such that she preferred to stay at home.

Barring a few visits, with the boys, to meet Comet and the rest,

She really wasn't the sort to go haring off on a bandicooting-quest.

So when she didn't appear three days ago, when I opened the door

We hoped and prayed that it was just an aberration; nothing much more.

Another day, and in my heart, I knew she was M.P.D.

And yesterday, after searching high and low, it was Bagli, R.I.P.

She was the darling of the visitors, and the milkmen, too

And everyone was grieving for Bagli (and I suppose, so will all of you).

We take a certain solace from the fact that all the expressions of grief

Are followed by a coda: "She gave so much joy to all; though her life was destined to be brief"