Standing silent in the dawn.
His companion, dark yellow,
Was watering someone's lawn.
He yawned and shrugged and mumbled,
His canine friend did the same.
I said, "Hello!" He grumbled.
I pressed on, and asked his name.
At first, he hesitated,
Fixed his eyes upon his friend;
At last, "Damon" he stated,
As our dogs sniffed, end to end.
First, I introduced my mate,
My companion for walking.
This did not ingratiate,
And still he wasn't talking...
"What'd you call your furry chum?"
My own name I then proffered.
Still, he stayed profoundly dumb;
A sigh was all he offered.
Quick, a smile broke on his face,
"It's Pythias," he shouted.
(Ice broke in that silent place;
An outcome never doubted.)
I asked why he chose that name,
And what put him on that track.
I heard my new friend exclaim:
"Because he always comes back!"
Mick McKellar
June 2019
Storied names decorate the lives of many of our furry friends.
Mick
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