Smaller Dog Autumn Morning

My smaller dog pulled all three of us across the park

this morning. Pointing her brown dog nose straight towards

the lake breeze she marched over to the shore

when normally she would hurry back inside to start

clean-up duty while my toddler shovels her breakfast onto the floor.

Paws at water’s edge she sniffed deeply into the northeasterly wind.

The hint of a sunrise added an orange tinge to her blenheim spots.

Tail curved upwards. Long ears flapping slightly.

Her impatient dog brother paced nearby unwilling to interrupt.

She stood that way for a few minutes.

Smelling the first cool hint of autumn in the wind,

hearing the coarse rustle of the drying birch and aspen leaves,

watching their slightly silver – ready to pop yellow – edges flutter.

My tiny canine paused to note the changing season.

Then she grunted softly, lowered her nose, tail and ears,

and turned homeward, brother half a pace behind,

she trotted back towards toddler breakfast.