Their tails beat a metronome of desire
As the last candle concedes its fire.
They trail my wife with eager feet
Hovering, quavering, awaiting their treat.
As she closes the door and from the pantry repairs,
Already the twain have dashed up the stairs,
Attentive and breathless, with focus complete,
As idle footfalls sound retreat.
So patient now they impatiently wait,
Bonny in her bed, and Blaze in his crate.
Then Anne doles the biscuits and pats each head,
Blaze in his crate and Bonny abed.
But gone in an instant is each dog’s prize,
So curl they now with falling sighs,
Await their sleep and happy dreams of chase
While Anne brushes teeth and washes face.
She stops at the doorway to contemplate
Bonny in her bed, and Blaze in his crate.
Finally still since the first of the day
Are the dogs that did frolic and play
And dote on their mistress and lie at her feet
And cavil all foreign dogs in the street.
Every step in the kitchen Blaze did investigate,
While Bonny kept guard nose beneath the gate.
Now the proud warriors of hearth and home
Into fields of dream will roam.
The bedroom by the moon palely lit,
While hiccup-like barks in their slumber emit,
As twitching paws race with imagined tread:
Blaze in his crate, and Bonny in our bed.