Widowed Boots

WIDOWED BOOTS

New green Wellingtons
Camouflaged in grass,
As you explore new pastures.
Exciting scents,
Running in circles,
Marking your territory,
Too-large puppy feet,
Scampering playfully.

Frozen ice Wellingtons
Crunching in snow.
As you roll on your back in delight.
Flakes on your nose,
Disappearing in drifts,
Wagging tail signalling,
Trail of paw marks,
By Wellington footprints.

Dirt-streaked Wellingtons
Squelching in mud,
As you investigate dirty puddles.
Steaming buckets,
Warm towels and licks,
Wet-dog smells lingering,
Afternoons drying out
By a warm, cosy fire.

Running home Wellingtons
Caught in a storm,
As you strain at the leash in fear.
Trembling legs,
Terrified whimpers,
Tail between legs.
Comforting pats and cuddles,
My oversized lap dog.

Woodland walks Wellingtons
Stepping through bluebells,
As you frantically pursue your prey.
Leaping for squirrels,
Head in burrows,
Bird’s wings flapping,
Too clumsy to catch anything,
But loving the chase.

Dry, resting Wellingtons
Exchanged for sandals,
As you bask in summer sunshine.
Rolling in dung,
Proud of your new perfume,
Buckets and cloths,
Lolling tongue, cheeky grin,
Forgiven as always.

Going away Wellingtons
Sinking in sand,
As you chase and ride the waves.
Ball in the sea,
Swimming to retrieve,
Digging holes in the beach,
Running ragged round rocks,
Ecstatic, crazy canine.

Slowed pace Wellingtons
Not venturing far,
As the autumn of your life arrives too soon.
Preferring home comforts,
Still playful in spirit,
Stiffening legs,
Let sleeping dogs lie.
Still my best friend.

Dusty, redundant Wellingtons
Hidden in cupboards,
By the space where your basket is no more.
Missing your presence,
A home drowning in silence,
Plunged into sadness.
We walk together no more,
Except in dreams and memories.