My Little Dog by Pearl Forbes MacEwe poem

I helped a little lame dog
Over such a stile,
He followed me with gratitude
Many a weary mile.
I shoo-ed at him and chased him,
But he stuck there, close behind;
(I'm sure his bark was saying,
"I know they'll be kind!")
He came into my housie,
And he wouldn't go away,
So I'll keep my little lame dog
To myself, if I may.