Dog’s Domain

The dog’s backyard is her domain,
a vital part of herself.
She polices it sniffing out
marauding cats and prowling hedgehogs.
The cats are routed
at high speed
with growls and loud barks.
She bites the curled up hedgehogs
then cries when their spikes
pierce her tongue.
Now she is led firmly inside
to have the spikes removed.

The luxuriant foliage
of the vegetable garden
is minutely nosed at row by row
for possible animal scents.
The gardener works under her surveillance,
pulled up weeds are all closely sniffed.

The sunny concrete path is a warming pad
for middle aged limbs and back,
the shady trees a summer refuge
for a panting matron in a fur coat,
the deck an airy resting place.

Her inspection of her domain complete,
the dog stretches out
dozing in the sun.

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Dog’s Domain

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