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Not a Dog
This ball of fur
upon the bed
is forever coming
too close to my head
Your stature is small
your footprints are minimal
still you slink about
like some sort of criminal
Jumping out from furniture
you've hidden behind
Scaring the bejesus
out of my mind
Malevolence and manipulation
are traits of your kind
Even though your features
are rather refined
You're forever encroaching
close to my face
Always invading
my personal space
Why won't you quietly
sit on a mat,
come when called,
enjoy a quick pat?
You refuse to roll over
for a belly rub
Instead, slinking away
preferring to snub
Why won't your tail
wag with delight
when informed it is time
to walk of a night?
Why can't my fingers
twirl around your ears?
A sensation I've missed
for so many years...
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