Like a duck to water

You almost didn’t make it, just out of view
of the humans who sat, chatting, downing
cups of tea, amused by a clowning puddle of pups,
tussling and tumbling on new Spring grass.
You scrambled up a ramshackle pile of bricks,
stacked against a plastic butt, and somehow must
have toppled in.

Alarmed by sounds of splashing, we found you
doggie-paddling in blissful unschooled circles, ears
dipping, skimming then skirting the murky surface.
You learned fast – this first watery mishap
transformed into a story, your story –
the discovery of the aqueous element
you made your own.

Adventures in, on, across, through water
populate our memories of you. Your chest built
for swimming, ears spread wide, steady, bubbly breathing:
your pelt liquified. Sometimes we’d panic, light failing,
scanning the horizon or bank, and no dog visible.
Would you get washed away, tire and drown
or simply carry on,

forget to turn, your easy strokes pulling you
out into the Irish Sea,
the sunset,

4 Replies to “Like a duck to water”

  1. Like a duck to water. Years ago, I hauled Dougal out of the little fishpond, thinking he was in trouble and couldn’t get out. It wasn’t easy, and I got very very wet. Roger then passed by and told me Dougal often jumps in to cool off!☺ As for the news blues, yes, scary. Seem to be more questions than answers. Researching conspiracy theories at 2a.m. not recommended! Love to all, Paula x

  2. Who’da thought you’d be lockliting again in 2121. Yes, we’ve all been set adrift. Lovely to hear your news in the usual beautifully written way. Even if it does send me running to my dictionary to look up a word I don’t know. ? x

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