Last May, 2021, I wrote this poem
Bella (who bit the other dog)
She tracks in dogshit from the blight
Of our filthy yard outside. I’ve
One thing fair to say for her: bright
Gleam her eyes beneath that stale hive
Of matted, tangled fur, a sight
Which heaven can scarce but leave alive.
One snarl the more, one tooth or less
Hath half impaled the separate beast
Who dared to touch her kibbled mess
Or stole her master’s pizza feast;
While thoughts serenely beg caress
How pure her kennel cage at least.
And on that snout, and o’er that brow
So fierce, so wild, yet eloquent,
The smile that wins, the wags that grow
To tell of days in lock down spent.
A dog that begs from far below,
A bite whose love is innocent!.
.With a pat on the head for Lord Byron.