The Bloodhound

Dawn breaks over the horizon in a thin, frail line my large snout presses downward upon the ragged earth beneath, for I am on the hunt absorbed in my task, scanning and searching for that elusive scent that is in my wake. Like a great detective, I will leave no stone unturned I am proud of my prodigious nose, finely tuned precise as a compass, I can detect the rarest of scents, however miniscule, and will probe follow that unique smell, to find what is lost... it is the zenith of my existence. What, ho! Now, the scent! My body trembles with the thrill of discovery! Onward, I go, with eager anticipation I will not stop until I reach my destination. Alas, my determination pays off my master sees the end in sight... I do not understand his sudden sadness how he draws back at the scene set before him. As I nuzzle close to my master his salty tears drench my face my doleful eyes seem to comfort him as we huddle together underneath the dry, hot sun. Written on 7/1/2019