A Big Black Dog

for the Poets United prompt: Animals. Of course,

you know  the first animal who came to my mind.

He was

a little black puppy

who turned into

a big black dog.

He howled like a wolf

each morning

when I left for work,

spat the treat I gave him

as a bribe

disdainfully on the floor,

with a look of utter betrayal,

that I was leaving.

He was over joyed

each afternoon

when I came home again.

Now, he would

deign

to eat the treat,

still lying

on the floor.

Celebration time!

Into the car

and off to the beach we'd go,

him galloping

far ahead,

leaping over logs,

sniffing the tideline,

falling over his

big puppy feet.

When I sat on a log,

he'd start to dig,

throwing sand behind him

till he had a

cool little bowl

to curl up in.

When I had

a gentleman caller,

he'd steal a pair

of my underpants

from the bedroom

and gambole
gleefully
with them
through

the living room ,

me in hot and flushed

pursuit.

When we went

to the lake,

he stole

a long trailing

ribbon of weiners

from a family having a picnic

and skulked away with them,

guilty but determined,

into the woods.

He chewed up

my eagle feather,

and buried his

pig ears

in my potted plants.

When I told him No,

he buried them

in the BACK of the plants,

where it was harder

for me to see.

He lifted off the

pillows I used to

keep him off

my new couch,

tossed them on the floor,

then napped
luxuriously 

on his back

with his paws in the air,

all askew.

He was a handful.

When we drove anywhere,

for fourteen years,

he barked at me non-stop:

Hurry up, let's get there!

People driving behind us

told me

it looked hilarious,

me driving the car,

turning my head

to admonish him,

his big old jaws,

turned towards me:

bark, bark, bark!

He loved to race

ahead,

along the beach

and down the forest trails.

But he always knew

just where I was

and he'd circle back to check

on me.

He wouldnt come

when I called.

He'd return

when he was ready.

He led me

a merry chase.

It was clear

that I was the one

on the end of the leash!

He dragged me
around
for years,
me pleading fruitlessly,
"Dont pull me!"

It took him fourteen years
to mellow.

But he dogged
my every step.

His eyes
followed me

everywhere.

I was his world,

and he was mine,

one creature in this world

who loved me

unconditionally,

with a true heart,

who didnt leave,

who never

turned away.
One creature
for whom
I was
Enough.

Though his body

began to fail

and his pace slowed,

his wolfish spirit

remained strong,

completely wild

and free.

He embodied
the wild,
and shared
my love of
the sea.

And

I never knew

how lonely

walking could be,

till he was no longer

walking along

with me.