Unfinished 1

Mum! Dad! Come on let's go!
Wake up. Look outside.
There's snow!
At least I think there's snow?
I'm colourblind to greens,
so it could all be lawn out there, who knows?
Come on! Wake up.
It smells cold out there.
We can play and have fun.
I'll get my lead from downstairs.
Actually that's tough, it hangs on the hook.
Hey dad, wake up, get my lead
Please don't make me beg
I mean plead.
Dad! Mum! That's it, a leg.
I'll grab it and pull
If that doesn't work, I'll try the head.
Finally. We have movement.
He gets up, steps on squeaky ball.
I put that there.
He looks down on me-
he's tall.
I'm less tall.
I always look up to him.
It gives me a bad neck some days.


Dad showers while I pace the floor.
He marks his territory in the bathroom
so I just pace a little more.
I can wait
The snow won't run away.
It usually lasts weeks or more


in dog years anyway.
I scratch my collar
argh-this is a good one.
You can't beat a good scratch-
followed by a long run.
DAD! Come on!
That's it, he's ready
Coat on, we're out the door.
It IS snow! Not lawn.
Wicked.
It melts on my nose
and tickles my toes.
And there's snowmen to pee on all day.
So we head to the park
where I hear other dogs bark
sounds of joy and happiness and play.
Happy chat of chasing things, leaping snow and ice covered fur.
Except for the terrier from number 4
who whines of some inhumane procedure-
That the vet has in store

for him next week.
Poor kid.