Our Imperfect Dog
By Cynthia C. Naspinksi
We love our dog with all our hearts,
But not so much her stinky farts.
Her doggy breath is less than fresh,
Yet we hug her nonetheless.
From barking she will not refrain.
The house and yard are her domain.
Park on the street or walk on past,
And you will likely cop a blast.
Meter readers, couriers,
Serve to make her furious.
Possums, lizards, neighbour’s cat,
Will not be shown the welcome mat.
In the name of crime prevention,
Airspace gets the same attention.
We feel safe, it must be said,
From birds that dare fly overhead.
She wages war with the lawn mower,
Outdoor sweeper and leaf blower.
And switching on the vacuum cleaner
Won’t bring out her best demeanour.
This causes some embarrassment,
This doggy form of harassment,
But she does provide protection,
And for that we feel affection.
Once introductions make the rounds,
Her friendliness, it knows no bounds.
Though not all guests are fully rapt
With thirty kilos on their lap.
Should you leave your nice warm chair,
On your return you’ll find her there.
And when she’s urged to please vacate,
She’ll turn into a limp, dead weight.
To baths she has a strong aversion,
Desperate to avoid immersion.
Yet she’ll display her dive technique
In any muddy pond or creek!
We give her scratches, make her smile.
Give an inch, she’ll take a mile.
Stop and she’ll demand still more,
Prodding you with paw and claw. “She’s got character!” we all say.
At times it’s just a nicer way
Of saying she’s our problem child,
Kinda crazy, kinda wild.
For all her faults we love her dearly
And in turn she loves us clearly.
She’s our funny, gorgeous girl.
We wouldn’t trade for all the world.
