Friday 1 October 2021

For These Days

Though our cat lives a life I can only dream of
there is a certain steady freedom with his reign.
No killing sprees on the flocks of local sheep or
the barking that accompanies the postman every day.
The cat is pristine and insists on an access-all-areas
cycle of cleaning that he must repeat ad nauseum.
He makes a point of ridding his fur of the human rub
that he claims, by force, as and when it is required.
We can drive away without a thought for our cub,
and return to find him safe and well and dry.

But the dog. I miss having a dog so much.
It is a parcel of preparation and plotting,
and flea-and-tick treatments that don't work.
And training, and grooming and washing
to no actual purpose.

Now walks to the woods are the ways of my daughters 
and I feel they must
have a pet for adventures.