Off For A Walk Poem by Barbara Clafton

Out the back gate, left open mindlessly by daydreaming children,
She sneaks happily, belly low to the floor.
Backward looking over the shoulder, half expecting to be caught
Down the alley and past the butcher’s
Sniffing tentatively for stray sausages
“Git outer it” shouts Fat Sam,
The bloody handed butcher, cleaver in hand.

Screaming inwardly she runs a little then stops
Road
Cars, have to wait till it’s clear
Don’t get too near
And
Away

Skipping happily along Gunnels path, down to the field
And heaven.

The sweet sickly smell of the newly mown grass
Rolling over and over until white with black patches
Becomes Green with slightly greener.

Ah, bliss
Play dead
Sun shining over head
Not bothering a soul here
No one to tell her off for sneaking away

Now, to sniff the bushes to find that bone
The one she stole from Fat Sam last Friday
Should be nicely decomposing now
Ready to eat
A tasty treat

Sniff scratch dig
Green paws now muddy brown
Ah, heaven, lay down
Lick the scabby tendons drying on that bone
Wouldn’t be allowed to do this at home!

Gnawing grinding to her heart’s content
Chewing on that grissly ferment

A sudden chill breeze catches her fur
Maybe it’s time to return
Dig, scratch cover up
Save it for another day

Check no one is watching and
Slowly sneak away
Over the shoulder backward glances
She is not taking any chances-
No stray mutt can have her prize!
There are no prying eyes.

Over the road, steady
Skip back along Gunnels Path
Ready?
Waiting for a telling off when through the gate
Where had she been, it’s so late—
Nope, all busy, no one knew
Creep into her basket all warm and cozy
Wash off the green and act all dozy

“Such a good dog, look at her there
Any one would think she didn’t care
That we didn’t walk her today”

Sly smiling dog winks
Well, what’s to say?