Tucker

Tucker is our eighty pound Dogo 
Argentino family pet.

Under foot is where he lays.

Creeping into the kitchen at the 
smell of food; hoping, if he’s lucky
he’ll get a crumb, or two.

Keeps me tripping; he’s leading, 
then he abruptly stops, to see if 
you are still behind.

Evening and morning; you see 
two shadows, one is mine, the 
other is not.  

Rotten; spoiled beyond repair. 
He doesn’t know he is a dog, 
he thinks he is human.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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Deremer Avatar
March 27, 2016 at 3:03 PM
I understand that feeling !
Rosario Avatar
March 27, 2016 at 5:37 PM
Thank you Pam.
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