Few humans Milky fails to greet,
When walking or balking in the park.
The problem is those dogs we meet
Whose hints her paranoia spark.
Then she will snarl and bear her teeth
And, if attacked, will fiercely fight;
The trampled enemy beneath
Unable to dispatch a bite.
Speaking of bites, here’s freaky food
For thought, regarding Milky’s mind –
In short her startling attitude
Towards herself and, yes, mankind.
One day I found her all alone,
Between her paws my wife’s new shoe
As if it were a leather bone;
Something, in other words, to chew.
My first reaction was alarm,
Unwarranted, in fact, because
I saw it showed no sign of harm:
For dry as a bone and whole it was.
Of course I grabbed it anyway
And went to the kitchen for a snack,
Returning soon in great dismay:
I’d heard a sudden crunchy crack.
Milky had scrunched the remote control
Of our essential heater-cum-fan;
At once I grasped this was the toll
For denying her the scent of Gran.
Since then, when left alone in the flat,
She always surrounds herself with shoes.
Perhaps she’s trying to tell us that
With her our soles we’ll never lose.
10 February 2023