The Laws of Paws and My Faux Pas
And she was beautiful,
licking the years from my face
and thankful I allowed such nonsense.
For her,
it was such nonsense
that gifted her with more time.
That rear-scratching against post and fence
as the moon eclipsed another of her hours,
until, I too, knowing we were alone in the dark,
scratched my own rear on the fence.
And I laughed
while she barked,
looking at me with a face that fit her name,
clumsy as she was for 13 years.
I named her Grace
and she named me Lucky (to have her).
To her chagrin she slept mere feet away
instead of between us,
but I made it up to her with endless belly-loving
and even when I think of her now,
I scratch my bum along the fence and laugh,
then cry,
and I could care less about my audience.
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