Game, Set & Match

Thought I’d sit on the patio and write, an easy 
decision for me - but my erstwhile companion, 
a canine intellectual, disagreed; in his dogged 
viewpoint, creating words doesn’t fill tummies, 
it wasn’t a case he ever needed argue 

I had to agree; writing never filled his bowl, or 
mine, nor lessened hunger pangs associated 
indiscreetly with that time of afternoon he has 
always known forever as ‘hour of providence’ 
and don’t you try distracting me 

So what will it be I joke offering him a pretzel, 
while the look wasn’t pure malice it didn’t say 
‘c’mon, you can do better’ either; so he walks 
away disdainfully, reconsiders, returns, sniffs 
the pretzel, shakes his head in disbelief 

‘You seriously expect me to eat this’ is stated 
as clearly as holding up a placard with those 
words emblazoned; but I disagree, no it isn’t 
serious I say, its a joke, and quickly eat three  
pretzels watching for his reaction 

So - how many words’ve you written, he asks 
obliquely - or would that be too distracting for 
you to consider while you’re torturing me with 
pretzels in lieu of diced meat you’ve already 
thawed - and wins game, set & match 

© 26 November 2013, I.D. Carswell