Dog’s Domain

The dog’s back yard is her domain,
a vital part of herself.
She polices it, sniffing out
marauding cats, 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
with fascinating odours
is minutely nosed at row by row
for possible animal scents.
The gardener works
under her surveillance
pulled up weeds are sniffed closely.

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.

Previously posted January 2016.

Dog’s Domain