Preparation
The thin gray man
pulled his truck to the
edge of the greenest part of
the field
behind the church.
He adjusted his cap
then carefully unloaded
the plastic fences,
jumps,
marking poles,
see-saws,
a-frames
and the orange traffic cones
in the middle of the field.
With calculated moves, he had set out
the apparatus
to prepare his dog for
the upcoming trials
a short
time away.
Adjusting each item,
checking their position and height
just so,
pacing off the space
between the cones and white stakes
measuring here and there
to be sure.
His black and white Afghan
jumped out.
The dog followed his signals
and moved
over and around
the folding fences,
weaved through the
orange cones,
jumped the hurdles and
got a treat and
and encouraging word
each time it was right.
The rain came suddenly
but neither the man nor
his dog neglected their
duties.
The next day, at the same time,
almost exactly,
he returned.
This time
with a tall, shiny, black poodle.
The routine was a little different.
The poodle
more advanced, quickly
ran the gates and wove its way through the cones.
Each received their reward in time.
The man, filled with pride.
The dogs
filled with
soft praise
and biscuits.
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