Sunday, 13 October 2013
sometimes when i dream of you
you are playing
prancing round the garden like a circus pony
a stick tossed in the air
and caught by those broken old teeth
sometimes i just feel your fur
short white fur
or your velvet brown ears maybe just cocked listening
for the biscuit tin to open.
i remember you as a puppy
and how you ate my shoes. my pants,
well you ate just about anything
how your life was nearly cut short
by the incident we don't mention.....
however you survived and had many more scrapes
with tractors, on roads, other dogs
and your bullying of the cats was legendary.
As the years rolled on you mellowed
into just a fairly bad dog
people gave you a wide berth
frightened by your hardcore looks
you were my protector
my minder, my companion.
Being such a character people still talk about you
and how your antics made them laugh
you are not forgotten.
Written for The Mag go here to see the others work.