I like my dog because he looks like me.
He’s patient, kind and has no silly whims.
He is the type we both aspire to be.
I dress myself accommodating him.
His love for me not based upon a selfish yearn.
If I forget to fill his water dish,
he comes to me with silent eyes that burn.
He stares, expectant, with disquiet wish.
His needs are often met with urgent bark
His wagging tail a gracious symphony
Much happiness begins at doggy park
as both of us are suddenly set free.
He likes to walk; I like to talk. We find
we’re birds-of-feather with communal mind.
jacquelinecaseypoetry 