You hear first the great din -
baying and barking, growls and yelps,
as you cross the first river the pack
moves toward you, tails awag, ears up.
Shep who guarded your carriage,
put away for killing chickens;
Skippy, the cocker spaniel who sulked
if you wouldn't throw his ball;
Lady, the gun shy hound who got hit
by the truck when you let her loose;
Bruno, part chow, who pulled you everywhere;
Strider, the mutt, who attacked the mop.
They come when you think of them,
dancing out of the pack,
Brandy who widdled with joy
leaving a path for the others.
They gather around
wagging their whole back ends,
leaning into your knees,
taking their due.
Together you pass the gates of horn
with nods from Cerebus
who knows to make an easy crossing
for those who come with their dogs.