Like A Cat He Stretches AS I Tickle

As if commanding me to touch other parts

Or to get out the comb and tidy his hair.

He lies in the sun, fluid in his movements

Lazing, owning all he sees, surveying his land

Before drowsing, absorbing heat and sleeping

He has expectations as if he is my master

This my dog, O’Driscoll, not a man or cat!

He is the most catlike dog I’ve ever met

He cleans his paws regularly and toys with his prey

O’Driscoll is far to sexy for his fur and poses

On the rocks gazing out to sea, chest out

And that, oh that really makes me laugh

Some of the time he remembers he’s a dog

And is innocently earnest in all that he does

And of course every thing is his favourite thing.

Food — his favourite, walks — his favourite

Bones — nothing better, sleep — the best!

And naturally he does them all with diligence

He can look game to play with you anytime

Look disdainful if you get cross, or crestfallen

He looks embarrassed if you catch him doing bad things

Why can’t he lie on my newly washed clothes?

Or sneak out my lingerie to his lair?

He loves his mummy and wants her clothes!

So where would we be without O’Driscoll?

He gives us much laughter and sometimes tears

And we love to do with him his favourite thing

That means every single idea he has

His devotion is unwavering, loyal always

He lies at the door when I am out, waiting

Visiting my teen daughter regularly -duty

He will not eat anything until I return

He rolls on deceased creatures of the sea

Chases birds for fun, barks at cats with hate

He runs for a ball, but runs past me to score

A try for Ireland rugby team for which he was named

Published in Contemplate