April Poem #14

How the Dog Behaves

With his fur across
the blanket but he remains unseen
I know he’s up to something
My senses are quite keen.

There lay a trail of litter
from the front room to the back
the kitchen is filthy now
the trash can has no sack.

It’s at the feet of Grendel,
the monster of my house.
Food left out trembles like
the settling of a house.

He’ll sniff it out.  He’ll find it.
With him there is no doubt
And he’ll nose at your hand after
with a still greasy smelly snout.

So help me I will pet him,
my anger will be gone
For I know the poor boy
cannot stand to be gone from food for long.

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