LAST THING BEFORE BED
Wherever Gypsy finds to plant her pees
Depends on countless subtle vagaries
Of scent and sensibility beyond
My reckoning, to which she may respond
And do the curtsy she’s gone out to do.
My job’s to urge her on and to pursue
Her random amble through the night-lit yard
Stalking behind her as if keeping guard
Trying to anticipate just where she’ll squat,
Never the same place in the whole back lot.
At last she dips and does her destined chore
Then plainly pleased she gallops to the door
Knowing that I’ve in hand her final treat
For which she has performed this nightly feat.