Coal black eyes burrow my depths
you possess talent for comforting or receding.

yet you have your swagger
annoyed to be brushed
pout when scolded
demand structure for
mealtime and walks.

Allow young paws to caress you
but dodge open hands
atop your head.

Sense human angst and fear
snuggling by their side
just as you sidle up for
yours during a storm.

We live in harmony 
as long as I obey
Sir Clancy’s rules.
Happy 15th birthday Little Man!

I wrote this poem in 2020 and am sharing again for Clancy’s 15th birthday!