Bunty

She wasn’t my dog, the boxer
with a coat the colour of fox fur,
leaping and shivering with pleasure. 
She wasn’t even my aunt’s. 

Away from home, I was only four,
with my aunt and her current suitor 
on a jaunt to the Essex coast for 
four days. I was just a pawn,

a red herring, playing on the shore,
while they strolled, steeped in amour.
That bouncing, drooling boxer
was my trusty companion

until one afternoon, back in our chalet,
she jumped on the sofa and peed on me.

Kim M. Russell, 17th April 2022

It’s Easter Sunday and day seventeen of NaPoWriMo! Today’s prompt was developed by the comic artist Lynda Barry; it asks us to think about dogs we have known, seen, or heard about, and then use them as a springboard into wherever they take us. I have already written about this incident in a poem that was published in the Emma press Anthology of Aunts. Bunty really made an impression on me! I don’t have any photos from that holiday, but I found a fabulous one of a boxer on Dreamstime.

19 thoughts on “Bunty

      1. We’ve only ever had that experience with a cat. Son went to cat sit for one of the girls when she was away for the weekend and the cat peed on his face in the night. He’s refused to have anything to do with it since.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. When my youngest sister was still in nappies and her cot was between our beds, she used climb out of her cot, remove her nappy and sit on my face. Yuck!

        Like

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