Life is a Treat

 

The best time of the day
is when he comes home.

He’s big and sees me
as soon as he comes in the door.
We play the game where he
chases me down and rubs
my belly. Then he says, “whose the
best dog in the whole wide world?”
as he lifts me high in the air.
I don't have to do anything 
he answers his own question.
“YOU are” he says, and pets me
some more. Then the best part. 

He puts me down,
goes into the room where my treat is kept.
I have to sit when he says,  I can’t
go  until he says the magic word
“COME” and I do.  I run so fast and get
so excited that I get choked up sometimes.
Then I run away to my rug
so I can eat every crumb.  I only get one a day
so sometimes I go back to my rug
to see if I left a crumb. I'll wait until
tomorrow for another treat but now
I get all the belly rubs I want.

Some Moments Can't Be Rushed

The remote opens the garage door so I can drive inside.

I open the door to the house where Lexi waits for me.
Her tail wags like a helicopter blade-- she hovers,
waits for me to put down my purse and keys,
jumps up and down for attention then, just my touch
is assurance enough. She can run outside ahead of me.

Outside the garage she waits for me to catch up.

Once I clear the garage, she takes off, hops through the grass,
looks for the perfect spot to go. This can’t be hurried.
I clip shrubbery and roses while she chases her tail,
her sign that life is so good she can’t contain herself.

I put my sheers down and she knows it’s time to walk

to the mailbox across the gravel road. I fetch the mail and Lexi
fetches a stick so she can play on the way there and back.
She jumps on my leg when I retrieve the mail, wants me
to throw her a piece of junk mail to rip apart. I do. Pick-up
is a small price for the joy she has and I get to watch.

Journey is over, we can both relax. Lexi gets fresh water

and I get a diet coke. She lies on the tile floor to cool off
before she makes her way to me. She snuggles into her
seat on the couch and sighs as she looks over at me, her
head down, ready for her nap. I pick up the computer, a book,
or knitting and I think I sigh, too.  We take the same journey
together each day when I get home.  It’s a time that can’t be rushed.

Side-kick

hops
through the Bahia
much like a beige bunny happy with her freedom.
still she stops to look back, to see that  I’m still there,
she wants to be sure of me

then
she is free
once more for minutes.  now she waits patiently
in her bed in the study, startles whenever my typing
breaks, when she hears the keys

tap

once again,
she falls back to sleep.  i come to the end
of my writing, silence palpable,  she appears by my
side, waits to be lifted up for kisses and snuggles.

Glide and Glisten

She glides across the sidewalk and Bahia.
I can’t see her tiny fur legs.
All five pounds of her pulls my weight forward,
as she hovers over the smells of the day.

I can’t deny her though I glisten.

Her tail is a helicopter blade.
Her joy keeps me straight and steady,
there’s no turning back for the gate.

I begin to smell the flowers, see the lights.

I know this is good for us both. We exercise,
experience enjoyment, I accept the gift of it
now that we’re through.

Lexi is Six

Lexi turned six this

month. I’m happy,

celebrate her life

and all she’s given

but I want twenty more

at least, don’t want to think

she’s middle aged in dog

years, that her best years

are behind her after only six.