Returning
He followed the motion and before it left the hand, he was away.
His greatest thrill was fulfilling his purpose, to please.
On returning, he stood patient, waiting for that firm stroke
That caressed his spine; and the feel of the palm on his ribcage;
Two pats coupled with the words: “Good Boy”.
He knew this pleasure was a current that ran both ways.
This game of fetch, as close as he could ever come,
To playing catch with his father.
The way they did,
When he was once a boy.
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