this is a poem by William Levenworth:

Yellow Dog

You keep your lofty abstract god, Myself, I choose a child of Pan, An ordinary yellow dog Who does for love what mortals can, Who stretches out her mortal frame Determined, although she's lame For one last walk beside her man.

Whose ashes grace the forest way We roamed together yesterday. And, to the wilder god I pray: Give her soul some woods to run, A stick to fetch, a patch of sun. And near her, Pan, preserve a place For me, come from a lesser race.