The silent Communion 'tween Child and Dog;
Fresh made acquaintance, ancient ritual;
You kindred innocents accept each other's spirit
With implacable wisdom we elders forget:
Walking my dog on her rounds, her Spaniel freedom
Rejoicing, makes full use of the cordless bond we have;
A non-word, a click of my tongue, "schtch", serves to bring
This Animated Lady up with me - no fetter, but friendship.
She pauses in a new spot, bushed-in patio, unfamiliar stop ...
I puzzle the cause and, looking back, detect a young girl,
Not much longer with the world than the four-footed lass
Who sniffs at her through the patio fence.
The child withdraws through her home and comes outside;
Not direct, but to a flight of stairs. I pause and stand by.
Meagan, my pet, is now free, by our developed code,
To investigate around us; she wanders to the girl.
Soft smile, sure hand, no tentative contact here,
The two greet like emissaries of long enmeshed tribes -
Full of effusive fervency - wagging with joy of harmony,
Spoiled so slightly by my superfluous scrutiny (softly askance).
This Pollyanna halts her stroking on the shoulders of the Lady
Whose graceful, smiling muzzle turns to the soft face of the child.
Gazing with ocean-open deep brown eyes into each other's
They fall still - locked in prehistoric recognition of best friends.
In an instant the greeting is done; the child smells her hand:
The dog scent masked by bubble bath perfume;
And the Protector of Children roves the rest of her boundary
Until I click to her - it's time to go inside.
