It started out as playful banter,
a one way monologue,
a man chattering away absently
to his two dogs
as if they were human.
But then we started to have real conversations,
the three of us,
just like colleagues might have in the workplace,
or the way chums might chat
on a fishing trip.
Since I was always outnumbered,
the conversation seemed to drift
toward the more dogly things in life.
We did our best to keep it light and breezy,
and made an honest effort
not to veer into spewing doggerel
or spouting dogma.
There was an awful lot of talk
about chasing chipmunks and squirrels
and the conversation did occasionally
get a little emotional when certain subjects came up –
like skunks,
or the neighbor’s annoying jellicle cat,
the illicit thrill of stealing French miche bread off the counter,
the benefits of sleeping 22 hours a day,
the joys of shredding paper into a thousand tiny pieces,
the disappointment of not walking down to the lake every afternoon,
and the despair of pooping and peeing on the floor in the house.
These last two points sparked quite a lively debate,
as they asserted that this was a brilliant example
of absolute cause and effect,
the latter being the result of the former.
How could I argue with that kind of logic?
Tomorrow afternoon we are going to meet for cookies
when we will discuss the ramifications
of rolling in unidentified substances in the yard
and scratching ourselves in public.
Your Own Back Yard - Michael Gillan Maxwell 