I take him out
on his retractable leash -
never miss a day.
And round he trots,
salutes the fire hydrant and
sticks his nose
where other little rights have been.
He's the cutest thing!
Then I tuck him
under my arm -
too much of a great outdoors,
little right could catch a cold -
and home we go
into the warm.
It's cosy here,
just the two of us;
he's not even
an issue
once our door is closed.
(Standing on the table,
he may put
his forepaws on me
and lick my nose.)
Don't need do anything,
just be
at home with me.
And I kiss him
on his darling muzzle.
"You may be small," I say,
"but you're pretty much
all I've got."
(Hope no-one climbs through the window
just as I'm putting the finishing touches
to our evening meal.
Steals him when my back is turned.)
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