Dog Justice

September 28, 2017

I would avenge Ol’ Shep right here;
had I finger, and a rifle.
I’d leave damn Timmy in the well,
contemplating vast and trifle.

The scuttling hare would know my name,
those squirrels would reap a welter.
And random cats, feral or tame,
would have no peace or any shelter.

I would deal death to wilder things
that would mock or give trespass.
I must fly at that flat frontier
that lies beyond the window glass.

I don’t know where good doggies go.
(Some rainbow bridge? Some Tupelo?)
It is my way, my doggish tao:
My faith plows the eternal now.

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