A Poem called LUCKY

Ok, let us start.
Tia has West Bend puppies
My brother and me.

Me? A blue collar?
Julie - but I like purple!
(Watson got that one)

That was a good home.
Warm, secure, toys, nice people.
Good place for a start.

Then John came along.
Older guy, tall, a hunter.
I got excited.

They called me Lucky.
Went home on St. Patrick’s Day.
Shamrocks everywhere!

I was so small then
With brown curly hair, sweet eyes.
Fitting right in there.

Timing: pandemic.
Quiet house, winter outside,
Friendly, though inside.

Daily walks with John.
First thing, in the truck, we’re gone
To our special place.

It’s an easy walk.
Sometimes there’s the same people,
Others - new strangers.

But I’m so friendly
After all, they ask my breed -
Water Spaniel, right?

Observant Spaniel!
That’s me on our walks each day.
I notice strange things.

I’m not obsessive.
Need to bark! A lawn mower -
On a bare sidewalk?

Hunting day does come!
The gun, the clothes, pack it up.
In the truck, we’re off.

We got to our place.
Woodcock! I was so happy.
Then he misses them!

I always stay close.
I check in, I look for John.
He depends on me.

Another great day -
My first bird! I got it up
And John connected!

We have our good times.
John, I, we’re a team it seems.
Always meant to be.

Life, has ups and downs.
Category? Porcupines!
Don’t get curious.

I’m just sayin’ here
The vet is nice and all that
But NOT a good time.

One last thing of fun.
Food, food, food. We both like it.
Not a little - lots!

We have our specials.
Kielbasa, liver sausage,
Almost anything.

We share all the time,
He eats, he sees me, he shares.
Dog bites; I’m grateful.

The end of the day,
Music in my Shawano home ,
A variety.

John likes his country.
Georgia goes for Rod Stewart.
I dance: “Downtown Train”

I have a good life.
They’re kind. A nice place to be.
Just call me Lucky.