The giant hound dog,
a centenarian
in human years,
a teenager in canine years,
lumbers through town
visiting old friends
and making new ones
when he digs under the fence.
He only barks at coyotes.
Doesn’t bite or fight.
But he isn’t on a leash.
So someone calls the cops.
When animal control
pulls up, he hops in
the front seat
and enjoys the scenery.
He poses for a mug shot
and leaves his paw prints
on his rap sheet
before he is bailed out.
But like a juvenile delinquent
he knows how to jimmy the locks
and sneaks out at night
and enjoys the ride again.
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