I roll my eyes for the umpteenth time
At them staring and pointing as together they chime,
I bet he takes some brushing with all that fur
Look Mummy, look. That man’s got a bear!
Here come the questions I think with a groan,
Does he bite, is he friendly, will he dribble on my coat?
He’s a big lad, what on earth does he eat?
As the posse of admirers hurtle across the street.
I tell them he loves livestock, toddlers and cats,
And faces drop further as he eyes their canine rat.
A belly full of him will make his happy tail wag
And sometimes if he’s a good boy I let him chew on the Jag!
Is he a St Bernard? Look at the size of his feet!
It’s gonna take me all day to get down this street.
I bet he’s really hot, does he sleep on your bed?
His kennel must be huge, does he live in the shed?
Is he a Siberian Husky, a Bernese or Great Dane?
He’s a Leonberger isn’t he? He looks just the same
As my friends Pyrenean Mountain Dog whose name I think was Lucy,
He’s none of those I say with a sigh, he’s my big brown soppy Newfie!
My resentment retreats as they shower him with love,
He stands and they gasp, then he shakes and they laugh
At the tendrils as they fly and confirm all mummy’s fears,
Then they sense that he is safe and then rub his silky ears.
His lolling tongue hangs lazily over his full and foaming jowls,
He shakes again and stretches out a long and yawning growl.
He’s had his fill of adulation from this admiring jealous crowd
And glances to me for guidance, it’s a look that makes me proud.