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Fierce Rufus

Rufus looks up adoringly from

where he lies curled up against the pillow

the perfect little sweetheart of a dog.

Who would guess that at any given moment

a hapless passerby down our street would

elicit a firestorm of barking, growling, racing

in circles, standing on hind legs on the arm

of the couch to ascertain they have gone

by as they should, without pause, without

breaking and entering, without attempting

murder or mayhem against Mother, Brother, Miles?


1 thought on “Fierce Rufus

  1. just doin’ his job.

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