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Rated: E · Poetry · Animal · #1947990
Defining my dog's daily walk

Little prince walks me every day.
He picks the route; I go his way.
His gait is regal with a proud profile.
Carried by short legs, for a mile.

Sniffs out each bush and tree he sees,
Spraying  his scent, and seeming pleased.
We stop now and then, at his will.
This time of day, not mine to fill.

Dare not deviate from his choice,
His twenty pounds will give great voice.
He’ll take a stance locked in place,
Determination covers his face.

He will meet his friends on the way,
Will, Bear, or Iris, wanting to play.
With a single bark, each will know,
Just how far with him they can go.

When strangers pass, snarl is a scare.
He always knows who should be where.
Fears no one regardless their size.
All need do is look in his eyes.

Birds and squirrels in his wake take flight.
Excitement is his at their sight.
Struts with pride and everyone knows
Moby, the prince of Meadowridge Road.

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