Close Call
Highlin chewed up my guitar case.
He freaked out with every thunderstorm.
We were away, buying a new car.
Highlin was looking for me.
He wanted that soothing classical music.
I played for him whenever he begged for comfort.
Lucky for him the guitar was not damaged.
The tolerance limit was reached.
3 thoughts on "Close Call"
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Oh! Bad puppy!
Great to see you here Larry.
That WAS a close call. But even if he’d chewed it into splinters and scraps, I don’t think you’d have punished him too much, you softie. 😏
I like how compressed this poem is. It tells the story in a few lines. It’s lovely!