A dog is just a dog until he isn’t.
Barking at geese, chasing squirrel,
fur and teeth and running paws—
I see him.
Licking jaws, thudding tail,
nudging nose beneath my hand—
I feel him.
Nuzzled to my side, nodding at my feet,
rumbling sighs, snorts, and squeals—
I hear him.
And when he glances up at me—
a dog is just a dog until he isn’t.
Leave a comment. Absurdity welcomed.