Sleep, gentle soul.
Sleep, crumpled up,
to leave some room for my ample bottom.
Sleep, my gentle friend.
You attacked a swan yesterday.
How you could you resist?
You made it bleed.
And you felt bad.
Because you knew I was unhappy.
But you meant no evil. It’s a bird.
You’re a dog. Where is the evil?
A young man got up from sitting crosslegged in the sun on the road today.
He pretended it was time to get up.
He stretched and dressed and got on his bike.
I knew he was nervous for you, but I never trust my knowings.
You went up to him and said hello.
He put his sunglasses on and said “nice doggy” as you approached waggingly.
I realised then for sure he was nervous but it was too late to call you back without alarming him.
He said:”You’re a big boy aren’t you? He’s a big boy isn’t he?”
I said, trying to reassure:
“Yes he is, but he’s a soppy one:)”.
Poor fellow wasn’t convinced.
But he left me thinking.
Do you know, young man,
despite his size, and his teeth,
and the colour of his coat
Leading to tremendous prejudice,
he would much sooner defend you than hurt you, ever?
How many people can you say that about?
So sleep, my gentle friend.
Rest your precious paws.
You are my heart and soul.
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