Saturday, January 29, 2011

The Puddle

My puppy goes right for the puddle.

I was sure she’d skirt it for clearer ground,

but she stood right in the middle after

her bath with Gorgeous Dog Shampoo

and Conditioner with Baby Powder Fragrance.


I watched stunned as she sat down

in the mud and wiggled around before

she began to slurp from around her.



I meant to jerk her up out of there,

meant to say, No! Nasty! Bad girl! Up!

Instead, I remembered the feel of warm

rain water and mud as it squished through

my toes. I said nothing, smiled and waited.

6 comments:

Peggy Goetz said...

Too funny Judy! So much for her being a foo-foo dog! Love this! (you have an extra "after" in the first stanza you might want to get rid of).

Mary said...

I love how you empathize with your dog's enjoyment of the puddle!

Willow said...

This delightful poem made laugh. Once again, you paint such a picture with your words. I can see her, and I bet she had her little crooked smile on her face all the while.

Judy Roney said...

Thanks for the catch, Peggy. I thought you might get a kick out of Lexi's shaninagan's Mary. :) Thank you for you words of praise, Belle. And yes, she had that crooked grin when she did pay any attention to me. LOL

Bill said...

Funny. I remember when you use to do that. :)

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