Dog Days of Summer

Today I stretched my way from bed,

Thoughts of milk-bones in my head.

I licked my parts and walked outside,

And what do you suppose I spied . . .

On the sidewalk?

A dark brown mound of steaming shit.

A turd, with flies all over it.

I approached with caution to examine things.

I dropped an ear to hear it ring.

Shit will do that sometimes.

I sniffed it closely to catch the smell.

The neighbour’s dog, as I could tell.

I poked a digit – warm and moist

Texture soft, then I rejoiced

To stick that toe-nail in my mouth.

The taste was something new to me.

Not salty like I hoped it be.

But rather bland and slightly bitter,

Then I thought about my sitter,

And how I had humped his leg once.

Onward so that others might,

Too fill their senses with delight,

And left that stinking pile of shit,

Overjoyed not to have stepped in it.

And I wagged my tail.