In Praise Of Hector.

A different dog,

not scary, not out to bite me,

panted as if the world had been spinning

at a million miles an hour

and he had been close

enough to chase his tail,

playful enough to grin

and make my sister’s home

the point of existence,

to put a smile on my face.

I had forgot just what a dog

could bring to your soul,

in praise

even when for the 50th time

they stick their nose

in your crotch

and leave you the slobbery ball,

catch the right dog

and for a while,

the world can spin

into the void

and you wouldn’t care.


Ian D. Hall 2017