Worst Day Ever

Well, I have some terrible news. Today is the worst day in history. My best friend Father Peter is on a plane now, officially retired, and flying back to Poland. I am going to miss him so much, so I'm writing a poem to him:

An Ode to Father Peter, the Best Friend of Corgi Puppy Margot

Oh, my friend Father Peter,

When you call, "Hey, Doggy!"

I can't run fast enough;

I wiggle my whole body.

I run to your gate -

For bread I can't wait,

Even when bread you bring me is soggy.

Oh, my friend Father Peter,

You tell me great things -

That I have beautiful glasses,

And that joy I bring.

I'll miss your kind songs,

Though I can't sing along.

To come see you I'd like to grow wings.

Oh, my friend Father Peter,

The best friend I could make,

Today I said goodbye,

Though my heart, it breaks.

I whined after you,

And I'll pine after you,

For no one else gives me cheesecakes.

When I met him, Father Peter was carrying leftover bread to the birds and squirrels at the building across the street from my house, where he would go everyday. Then he started to save the best of everything just for me, his best friend. Once, he gave me a whole coconut donut. Now that he's gone, I want to put up a feeder for the birds and squirrels. They don't have such an easy time becoming best friends with people, like I do, so they're going to need some treats.

I guess I'll need extra treats, too, to get through this, the worst day ever. The day that my first ever best friend moved away.