Dog’s Day

It’s deceptively simple,

not much in terms of principles.

I play - all day.

Run, fetch,

eat, sleep,

repeat -

I have an eagerness

to please.

The man gives me food

because I’ve been so good -

(every morning,

it’s the same story.)

Today he seems perplexed

when he should be impressed -

I’ve worked so hard

at digging up the yard.

There’s a cat next door

that I see every day -

barking will surely

scare it away.

What a life,

never leaving the house,

if only for a mouse -

(and it doesn’t like to be pet,

how about that?)

Barking it up a tree,

why are the neighbors

yelling at me?

I live a life of

leisure -

with a panting

demeanor.

Surplanting his

lilies -

the man’s anger

seems silly.

Caged -

in the cone of shame.

Ending the night

at eight o’clock,

chewing holes

in his socks.

The man doesn’t understand

that his love

is something

I am proud of.

We as a breed

are all he needs.

We are terriers

We are poodles

We are terrors

We are droolers

We are -

We are man’s

(toy!)

(oh boy!)

best friend.