Finn.

Finn.

The woman’s wheelchair bumped across
the battered parking lot
a shaggy furred black and
white border collie
ran by her side

reaching the concrete dock
and pebble beach, the dog
ran to the water and looked around
tail raised and waving
like an O Canada Day flag

could his mistress make it there?
he scrabbled with his paws in the sand
found a stick he liked
and ran into the sea
two teenagers watched as he shook

the stick until it floated
he swam and grabbed it
made it back to the beach
dropping the stick, he looked
around and found his owner

where he’d left her
the teenagers wanted to throw
the stick as much as he wanted
to swim and retrieve it
he stared at them, tongue lolling

he signaled by moving backwards
readying to give chase
oh joy, they threw the stick
and the game had begun
his owner watched and smiled

ten minutes of heaven
and then she called
Finn, come please
he ignored her and fetched the stick
the teenagers unaware of any owner

Finn, come please
he hung his head
wouldn’t look at her
please please can we stay
I’m having so much fun

Finn, come please,
he raised his head
peered at her under his eyebrows
thank you Finn, she said
he stared at the teenagers

uncertainly, they looked between the two
is he yours? they yelled
yes, thanks for throwing the stick
Finn waited, motionless

Finn, come please
and with a sagging tail
and drooping ears
he made his way back
to her wheelchair

you are such a good dog
she said, patting his head
his tail wagged
his eared pricked up
and they went home

Until tomorrow evening.

(C) Chris Beryl 2018

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