Our half-breed dog. Leo’s his name.
He comes over and watches the toast.
Circles the toast like a moth round a flame.
His yellow eye-lasers burn and roast.
You show him your hands and say, “All done.”
He wags a little and walks away.
Without the toast, you’re just no fun.
“Food motivation” is the phrase of the day.
Just before bed, he tries some affection.
The Labrador in him wants to come sit.
The Border Collie part goes the other direction.
Social. Anti-social. They don’t really fit.
Oh look. A puddle. I think he just peed.
He’s the common enemy you know we all need.