The dog whines.
The human resigns
to open the door.
The camera flashes.
The dog dashes -
Slick frost - crashes
into the rail.
Creature races.
The dog chases.
On three legs paces
home again.
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That's it for now from . . .
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Tending fine-fleeced Shetland sheep and a whole lot more on a small acreage in the Willamette Valley of Oregon
9 comments:
Didn't know you were a poet! That was good.
Hey! Raccoons gotta eat too...
;-)
feel better soon, Jackson!
What an excellent post! Good thing all that Jackson came away with was a sprained leg - raccoons can be very nasty characters if cornered...
"The human resigns..."
Love it- our animals drive us crazy with their in and out needs, too, but we don't get too many sprains from them- touch wood.
LOL, that was great! Er, uh, not for Jackson, but great poem :o)
Oh, poor Jackson - hope he recovers soon. T.
Jackson is fine, now; the limp is gone. I, too, am thankful he didn't actually CATCH the coon! He wasn't supposed to get out at all, but rammed his way through when I tried to open the door just enough to capture a photo. BTW, Rick and I both had pet coons when were were younger. Such neat animals!
Glad Jackson is ok! The raccoon looks very pleased with himself.
Great poem! :) Hope Jackson is feeling better!!
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