To My Westie: Neva

A riff on Robert Burns poem, “To A Mouse”

“Wee sleekit, cow’rin, tim’rous beastie
O what a panic’s in thy breasti!”
When I take Neva to the vet
Your entire body is racked with tremors.

Yet what a valiant heart
Lurks in your small breast!
Big dogs are best for
Barking at in your
small dog opinion.

Your four paws come off
The ground; you get so
excited. White with black nose and
Black eyes, you’re my little bear
Of a westie, solid like a tank,
Discreet, good-natured
For the most part, calm.

You keep me in the moment
So that I cannot brood over the past
Or worry into the future.
Praise you.

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