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

About pensitivity101

I am a retired number cruncher with a vivid imagination and wacky sense of humour which extends to short stories and poetry. I love to cook and am a bit of a dog whisperer as I get on better with them than people sometimes! We have recently lost our beloved dog Maggie who adopted us as a 7 week old pup in March 2005. We decided to have a photo put on canvas as we had for her predecessor Barney, and now have three pictures of our fur babies on the wall as we found a snapshot of my GSD so had hers done too. From 2014 to 2017 'Home' was a 41 foot narrow boat where we made strong friendships both on and off the water. We were close to nature enjoying swan and duck families for neighbours, and it was a fascinating chapter in our lives. We now reside in a small bungalow on the Lincolnshire coast where we have forged new friendships and interests.
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