Pat the Dog - Nov 5 2023

 

Pat the Dog

Nov 5 2023

I never thought to ask

if I could pat the dog.

Never knew it was breech of etiquette

to pass a stranger in the park

and presume the dog

who accompanied her

was public property.

And now, walking mine

no need to ask.

I'm delighted to share,

disappointed

when people shy away;

afraid of dogs,

or concerned about germs

shedding

slobber.

The cat people

and animal haters,

the grumpy misanthropes.

My eager dog

who is thrilled to give

and doesn't care who,

straining at the leash

as someone side-steps, or shrinks away,

eyeing her warily.

I think back

to how irresistibly

I was drawn to that bright-eyed dog;

her unstinting acceptance

and unselfconscious joy,

the comfort

simple touch can give.

Think back

to how reluctantly I left, wanting more.

As well as to that surge of love, and connection

that once rescued me,

dropped down

in that distant city

where I felt I didn’t belong,

unsure

unmoored

unseen.

A single short encounter

as instant therapy.

Our dogs are unnatural;

not Darwinian

but bred, selected, chosen.

If we were created in the image of God,

then our dogs were created

not in ours

but as we wished we were.

How she never has a bad day.

How present she is,

living in the moment

without introspection

or existential angst.

How unconditionally she loves,

and how, still a puppy at heart

she's up for adventure

no matter what.

The pleasure I get

seeing the joy she gives,

the smiles

that light up the faces

of the total strangers

who pass us in the park.

Then polite ones, who stop and ask.

As well as the needy ones

who needn't bother.