A Brindle Pretzel.

The greyhound is an elegant breed,

They say.

A very pleasant assassin. With good manners,

A lovely nature and a good temperament. But...

He spots a blur,

A small creature.

It excites the pleasure inducing hormones,

And he sprints, head rising and falling.

His legs provide rapid ground cover,

And his long, beautiful nose

Provides reach.

A thunderous hammering of paws on dry ground.

He is a wonder to behold. A dog of gods.

He snatches the rabbit as it flies towards its bolt hole

Suspended, he has it by the neck.

Only in his dreams, though.

He lies on a soft surface, his legs

Twitching as he lives it.

Puffs and blows come from lips

Pulled back in sleep.

His eyes flicker and roll,

His long, elegant brindle limbs

Are a tangle, a pretzel.

His go-faster stripes

On his head and back

Indicate that this is a boy bred to run.

Born to chase.

Made to catch.

But this boy, Odin. Odie

Prefers an easier life

Of bin raiding, if he can get away with it,

Of upside down reclining,

Arms raised in the air,

Of slow walks for sniffing,

Of a human to lie up against.

This boy prefers only to chase rabbits in his sleep

Because now he has a choice

And his choice is to just relax

And sleep.

And dream.