He only wanted my touch!

My friend’s shy dog, Squealer
Looked like a little brown pig.
He was hit by a car and died
On the spot several weeks ago.

He was buried near the gate of the farm
Where he would come to greet me
When I visited my friend,
Or would accompany me and my friend
When it was time to say good bye.

Whenever I would pet Khaki,
The old cat that would come
To rub herself against my legs,
He would get jealous
And run to me for a rub.
I preferred Khaki to him,
Did not much like him,
And would tell him
To get away from me.
He would leave gazing at me
As if he were crying.

Now when I remember him
I see his sad gaze he could not hide.
I wish I had showed him some affection.
Poor Squealer only wanted my touch!