Can’t see the point
of soap in my ears, my eyes,
only to get dirty again.
Don’t get me wrong,
I wouldn’t want to live alone.

Mum and dad look after me,
feed me the best food.
In return, I’m obedient:
no jumping on the settee
or attacking visitors.

But what’s wrong with violence?
Or sniffing the girl next door?
And why this obsession with fleas?
Sometimes the rules
make no sense at all
and I wonder about my parents

in the park, throwing sticks,
scooping my shit into plastic bags.

4 responses

  1. This really strikes a cord with me, Martin, as we have spent the last 2 weeks dog-sitting the King Charles Spaniel belonging to my son & daughter-in-law while they were on holiday. They collected him yesterday & I’m looking forward to a relaxing day!

  2. Love the twist at the end, and ‘sniffing the girl next door’. Before I reached the end I was trying to imagine the boy of you sniffing the girl next door! Also reminds me of The Revenant by Billy Collins.

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