Aiko puppy



When I write I like to slow down. It’s easy for me to write about watering orchids, or the quality of light first thing in the morning as the mist glows softly in the valley.

Today Aiko the puppy raced around the garden. She bounded after her ball, all four paws leaving the ground in between each step. Her tail wagged as she panted in a tongue-lolling happy way.

I slow down to read poetry. What does poetry sound like when it is a fast moving blur of fur and teeth and excitement?

the sound of joy
racing back towards me
with her small blue ball

Now she’s fast asleep. She was so excited and overtired that she was gnawing at the sleeve of my jumper. I sat still holding her softly and making quiet sounds and she relaxed in my arms. She can be just like a human-animal toddler that’s been awake for too long. Now, in her sleep, she’s suckling on her blanket. I guess she’s dreaming of mother.

Puppies in the wild do leave their parents at a fairly young age. Not this young. The first night she was here I slept with my head on her bed until she fell asleep.  I’m sure she remembered me from all the visits we had.

first cry of the day —
old cat, new puppy,
the echoes of dreams?

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