November 19: Sportive Tricks

Dog A, once bred to hunt, now pulls and pushes
To search for cats- she would have been aghast
To know that while she hunted we had passed
A cat on leash beyond her well-sniffed bushes.

Dog B, a ratter, bred for killing pests,
Relentlessly pursued discarded food,
And when discovered, pulled from jaws half-chewed,
While wholesome sanctioned breakfast he protests.

And Me- I don’t know for what I was bred-
Ostensibly, it’s not to sit and write,
Producing nothing tangible each night,
And yet, by looking one can be misled-

Wise ancestors by their examples taught
The pointlessness of mourning what I’m not.

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