Walking the Dog

Walking the dog under a marbled sky,
No-one about, just Maggie and I.
I look to the left and then to my right,
Notice the onset of diminishing light.
Clouds threaten yonder, heading our way,
Thunder expected later today.
Trotting beside me, her tail all aquiver,
A chill on the air now makes me shiver,
Her nose to the ground, she’s off like a shot,
Searching out pheasant or things long forgot.
She’s older, no wiser, loves the thrill of the chase,
Comes panting to me, a grin on her face.
She’ll pay for it later, become stiff and sore,
Slower than yesterday, and the day before.
Age doesn’t become her, her fur’s turning grey,
But she still loves her walks, four or five times a day.
Rumbles in the distance, anger in the sky,
We retrace our steps and are soon home and dry.
Photo: 2008 at the cottage.
Photo: Jan 2017

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About pensitivity101

Retired number cruncher with a vivid imagination, loves to cook, favourite food everything especially chocolate and jelly babies. Best friends are Hubby and Dog, Bro, MSM and our Dominoes Friend aka MOH (and his dog). Also a bit of a dog whisperer as I get on better with them than people sometimes! Due to a nightmare of a house sale in 2014, 'Home' was a 41 foot narrow boat until April 2017. We enjoyed swan and duck families for neighbours but times change and we are once again house hunting.
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