The Barking Dog

The Barking Dog By Stanley Russell Harris The new mad author & A Poetry Soup honourably mentioned poet When I was in the army, I trained war dogs you know. And when I had one out with me, pure happiness did show. Yet when we both were working, we worked as a team. My life was in my dog detecting what he was trained to gleam. One growl from him was enough, to alert me something was not right. I knew if I ignored him, I might soon die that’s right. That’s why I don’t like your dog crying, its plaintiff bark you see. As it means something is wrong, with it, if not with me. I’d like to take the law into my hands, but that I cannot do! So I must just listen to your dog crying a message I know, pity you don’t do! NB. As I lay in my sick bed with my man cold, I can hear a plaintiff cry of a large dog nearby. I cannot see it, I know not of its welfare. I only hear its plaintiff cry. And as my voice is now fading with this man cold I’ve got. I hope the owner of that dog reads this and knows he is a clot.