O Fluffy Walking Rug,

you are always underfoot,

nearby and keenly aware of our Comings & Goings.

 

 

You like car rides,

chasing presidential cats

and chewing wooden blocks.

When we come back home after a short excursion

there is neither creature nor man who has ever greeted us more enthusiastically.

I wish chickens were boring to you

and I wish your beard never got dirty.

I wish your barks were silenced after midnight

and you never got car sick.

 

 

But I’ve seldom loved a dog as I love you.

I like your hairy face, gentle eyes and companionable silence.

The way your dog eyes watch me walk from room to room –

always assuring yourself I’ll be back around soon.

Waiting across every room’s threshold to be certain I cannot escape unnoticed.

 

 

You make me laugh

and your company is to be preferred over many people I know.

You probably need a haircut but I’m a little attached to your shaggy unkempt habits.

I like you Ryder.

You are just a dog,

a canine.

 

 

An animal of the furriest variety.

But

you feel like family.

 

 

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