Flies out the door, stops stock still
Tail straight out, with iron will
From side to side, point to point, eyes track.
Grey and brown, against a tree
Limbs akimbo, barely breathes
Poised to flee, when comes the first attack.
Locked on target, muscles coil
Out the gate, always loyal
To the cause, the goal, the chase, the pack.
Faster still the prey is running
For its life with all its cunning
To a tree, tallest one, farthest back.
Speeding, racing, comes on strong
Falls behind though stride is long
Rounds the tree, in a beastly panic.
Far up there, its just a squirrel
Beating out my little girl
It's just a dream, doggy gets no snack.
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Author:
PerditaRose (
Offline) - Published: November 8th, 2025 13:52
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
Offline)
Comments2
A race in one's sleep. Nicely portrayed and with a timely reveal
Thank you... Imagine her paws twitching.
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