Love poem to my dog

She smells of sweet wood and grass

shaggy hair multi-toned in auburn and fawn

big dark eyes rimmed with black

deep as the night sky.

A terrier mix, fourteen pounds

with slender build and long legs

that sometimes, with her doe-eyes,

make her look like a baby deer.

She's lightening quick, her

joy the hunt and chase

sniffing and scouting, tufted

ears and tail raised and alert.

Small as she is, her courage

is huge. One night she took on

five racoons who had lumbered into

the yard on their nightly foray.

From inside we heard her shrieking barks

like a crazed banshee, sounding like murder

and dismemberment—I rushed outside

to see a gang of big coons dazed and snarling.

And she, darting among them with

electric speed, barking with rage

snapping and dashing away again

a furious blur of high-pitched noise.

The creatures at the bottom of the steps

burly and menacing, each twice her size

turned to me as I stepped out, the only

enemy they could actually see.

Instinct took me down to meet them

face to face, kicking, stamping, shouting

realizing quickly they were ready to fight

with equally vicious intensity.

My husband behind me carried a chair

wielding it like a lion-tamer toward the

wild bandits, all of us yelling and shrieking

stamping, speeding, snarling, scratching.

The coons unrelenting, still advancing

one swiped my bare leg with its claws and

I readied myself for bloody damage

shouting for Trixie to come quickly—now!

She ran up the steps and into the house

and I whirled on my heel to flee as well

my husband threw the chair at the mob and

we ran inside, our son slamming the door behind.

We stood together in a huddle there

three people, one dog, all of us shaking

eyes wide at our narrow escape.

It took some time to calm down.

And I'll admit I'm proud when

she catches a rat, shakes it

to a quick death. Though

I pity the creature, I also marvel

at her merciful efficiency.

And she, radiant in her purpose

fulfilled, sneezing and wagging

looks up at me, eyes full of love.

I crouch down, returning her gaze

pet her generously, whispering approval

smelling her sweet-wood, grassy goodness

humbled by her pure devotion.

 ©2023 Clelia Vahni Lewis