Poem: My Crazy, Bouncy Dog

My Crazy, Bouncy Dog

By Nancy Whiting, Kenai

Her feet are splayed in every direction

and she doesn’t mind my soft correction

because she hears I am laughing so

to see her frolicking in the snow.

She dashes, weaves and plows through brush

as though she’s in a mighty rush

to arrive someplace, I know not where,

and I suspect she doesn’t care.

Some ask me of her breed and I say, “Well,

I often think she must be part gazelle”

because the way she will leap and bound

shows she is no ordinary hound.

When hide-and-seek we often play,

I’m very quiet in the place I stay

and watch her as she bounces high

to see over grass and me to spy.

If you’ve ever seen a coiled spring

that when let loose does a mighty fling

then you can picture my dog that bounces

and has some sassy doggy flounces.

She trained herself to catch on the run

that stuffed furry squirrel she thinks is fun

as she most excitedly hops and bounces

just before she weaves and pounces.

Her feet are splayed in every direction

and she doesn’t mind my soft correction

because she hears I am laughing so

at this crazy dog I’ve come to know.

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