Puppy Eyes - Dec 6 2021

 

Puppy Eyes

Dec 6 2021

The dogs are exhausting themselves.

Porpoising through the snow.

Rolling onto their backs

and gyrating manically,

legs thrashing

as if bathing in the stuff.

They dart off the trail

then circle through the trees,

noses like a tractor beam

attracted to who knows what

disgusting smell.

No thoughts

of frost-bite, trauma, getting lost.

No concern

they might be too tired

for the journey home.

They live in the moment.

They trust.

They are inexhaustible.

I admire their toughness

and am bewildered by it,

waltzing out in winter coats

paws exposed

and wet noses quivering,

utterly indifferent

to the worst of winter.

While I'm all bundled up,

muffled in a puffy coat, stuffed into layers,

stiff

in big clumsy boots

and mitts like boxing gloves,

my toque pulled down snugly

then tugged even tighter.

I galumph down the road

through knee-high snow,

facing into a wind

that cuts to the bone,

an eyelash freezing shut

nose running ugly.

Even my teeth hurt.

While they are undaunted,

tearing through the drifts

oblivious to weather.

And then will sleep the sleep of innocents

when we're warm and dry inside.

Where they will dream,

all wind-milling legs

twitching eyes

strangled yelps.

Of the dead deer

they found last year,

still warm

where it staggered and fell?

Of the winter wonderland

waiting outside our door?

Or of another dinner,

as I'm sure they dream nightly?

Which it seems is all they live for,

hoovering up their food

like the condemned's last meal;

as always

the old girl making puppy eyes

imploring me for more.