A Night of Self-Purgatory

And in a time of joy and frivolity,

he turned his back on the festive mob.

Rather he yearned to be alone and free,

To sit and tend to his head's harsh throb.

Sequestered he sought to live that night,

A mind at ease and heart at rest.

Away from the group and their plight,

This solitude his one request.

Who could understand these feelings from him,

Normally one happy and loud was he,

But the night was long and his eyes were dim,

And on his own he had to be.

So he did retreat to a place they'd never look,

To lick his wounds and dwell in peace,

For rudeness his retreat would be mistook.

Hopefully these feelings would soon cease.

They could not understand his mood,

Or why he randomly felt down,

Just offer him drink, song and food,

So he wandered off, alone with a frown.

These people so well he could understand and read,

Yet never to them he could relate,

For it was the nature of his breed,

And therein was sealed his fate.

To know them inside out with but a gaze,

And detect in them emotions so fine.

But this gift does not work both ways,

The misunderstood life of a canine.