Certain family members have occasionally made disparaging remarks about Wilson’s intelligence. I caught him the other day in a contemplative gaze and realized that there is much that lies below the surface. As proof, here is one of his recent poems:

Upon the melancholy morn, was fixed my gaze on the road forlorn.

Skies painted deep with autumn chill, I shivered from the window sill.

When lo, in sweet romance, a fluffy squirrel ran happenstance.

“Hold back!” opined my silent motto; “Beware yonder speeding auto!”

Twas all for naught, the fur was caught, destruction fraught.

With eyes downcast and heavy heart, I turned with sadness to depart.

“Look up look up,” said a voice within; I glanced and my tail did start to grin.

Two upright squirrels from the forest stepped, their front paws high in air were kept.

Between them carried with firm belief, a stretcher formed of twigs and a leaf.

To rescue yon infirmed friend, to the doctor where he might mend.

With tender paws, they scooped him up, abed the leaf (to the eyes of this pup).

Tiny claws clicking as they pranced along; the injured even was humming a song.

They rounded a corner, alack and alas, their comrade dropped off on his furry ass.

With ear to the pane, I thus did strain, to capture the rescuers’ refrain:

Cuspids chattering as the mouth shuts, the only words heard were, “Awww nuts!”

Wilson, I promise that I will keep listening to your thoughts.