Dog Droppings
Dog Droppings
I drop down upon one knee, to hug his shaggy neck.
He covers me with hair again, but I think, “What the heck.”
If that’s all I can care about, then I’m a total wreck.
I learned this lesson years ago, when he was just a pup.
It doesn’t matter what he’s done. The mess will all clean up.
The love that he gives back to me o’erflows the biggest cup.
He drops the paper at my feet, and doesn’t read it first.
He drops a treasure in my lap, so proud his heart could burst.
The mangled body of a mouse, his offering, well-rehearsed.
He sits there in front of me, a sock between his teeth.
He looks so very proud of what he’s about to bequeath.
He finally found that sock that the bed tucked underneath.
“Drop it, boy!” I say to him, and watch the stocking fall.
His eyes grow sad, as do mine, I know he gave his all.
His tail grows still, and I see, I made the wrong call.
I’ll try to make it up to him, we’ll play his special game.
I’ll feed him yummy treats today, ‘cause I’m the one to blame.
I wish I could send that “Drop it," right back from whence it came.
“Drop it boy,” is what he heard, all the time he was a pup.
“Drop that shoe,” “Drop that brush,” and “Drop that coffee cup.”
I had to say, “Drop it!” before he chewed it up.
That playful little puppy’s gone, I guess he got dropped too.
I think of him, and want to cry, it makes me feel so blue.
He’s grown into this loving dog, whose heart’s so brave and true
If I could tell him “Drop it!’ again, I’d have him drop the years.
I’d have him drop those aching legs, and those Siren calls he hears.
Then I would drop and hold him tight, as the Angel of Death appears.
