Morning struggle

by joetwo

Opponents stare across the room

A master and his dog

It wants to smell the flowers in bloom

That feels too much a slog

It hints with an unsubtle paw

That roughly scrapes the arm

And high-pitches whines that leave ears raw

How can this be no harm?

So closer creeps with ear erect

Nuzzles at his head

If he holds out, it might defect

And bother Mom instead

But closer still, with licks on face

Enough, he cries defeat

On coat, the morning cold to brace

He walks it down the street.