Michael Peach

Instead of our saintly, snow-white dog,
We now have a jumpy, stubborn “bear”.
Taking her for walks is always a slog,
Since to her each path’s a potential snare.

That’s not surprising, given her past
Spent on the loose for several years.
Who knows how long her trauma will last,
For haunted she is by countless fears.

Then there’s her tumour they’re hoping to cure
With chemotherapy and drugs,
While we her trust try to ensure
With constant strokes and loving hugs.

To which she gently and warmly replies
With licks or by lifting a paw to shake.
Yet, often I glimpse within her eyes
The age-old dilemma of give and take.

For jumpy’s not her only mode,
Stubborn, as said, she can also be:
By lying down on path or road,
Demand she does her right to be free.

And, by the way, she is called Milky
After the chocolate-cream dessert:
Her coat is light-brown, soft and silky,
Her nature sweet and extravert.

28 September 2022

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