The ball flies through the air in a shallow arc,
A hairy blur in hot pursuit.
With a immaculately timed, infinitely precise jump,
She grabs her prey from the air.
There is a spring in her step as she saunters back
To lay her prize at the feet of her master.
Eyes up, willing the act, to throw again,
To repeat the cycle of chase and capture.
To run until the vast stores of energy are spent
and then to lie in panting contentment.
The noble rest of the hunter
Living life’s sweet moment.