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An Avid Fetcher’s Soliloquy
Whose house this is I so well know.
She’s swinging in the hammock, though.
I think she came to catch some zzzs,
not for a Scottie on her knees,
but still, I charm her with my eyes
and my bigger brother vies
to win attention and her pats,
but I want something else, and that’s
a tennis ball thrown just for me.
I drop it now beside her knee.
She reaches out and throws it up
and I’m a very happy pup
as I race to go retrieve it
knowing that she will receive it
once again, and then again,
for that’s the way it’s always been
ever since I can remember,
mom compliant, me so limber
that sometimes I catch that round
ball before it hits the ground.
and though her left arm’s occupied
with scratching Diego’s tough hide,
her right arm is my provenance,
and so I bark and jump and dance,
encouraging throw after throw
so I can follow where they go,
and when at night I go to sleep,
upon my dog bed, burrowing deep,
I pray the God of dogs protects
mom’s throwing arm from all defects.
For dVerse poets, the prompt is to write a soliloquy.
I wrote this one on International Dogs Day, Aug 16, 2021.
Thanks to Victoria Slotto for pointing that out to me.
 
