Ah, the day was a scorcher
Late August asphalt parking lot,
In car we waited, impatient and how,
Are they coming out or not?
All at once a pick-up truck,
Wheeled in close beside us,
In it a gorgeous mixed breed maybe chow,
His was a wait too but, no fuss.
There were pigeons on the tallest roof,
His interest was intent observing them,
From us he remained aloof,
Of what was his thought and whim?
All at once, as if bored with the birds
He turned his whole body and rested his head
Edge of the truck, gazed toward us, no words,
Still he made no eye contact from that bed.
And then as if to let us know he could,
The dog looked directly at us,
His eyes were one gray and one color of wood,
They fell upon us with no fuss.
It was a hoot
Dog with attitude,
Fur coat with no suit,
Cool, clean, nothing rude.