Bite's (The) On Me Poem by Tom Courtney

I stopped in for a bite today
My local hang along the way
But little could I have surmised
The bite was his as I was wised

The little yapper sat content
He tore my cuff achieved his bent
I cannot blame. It was his nature
I’d be embarrassed by his stature

No larger than a healthy turkey
My legs were loose, my hands were jerky
I scanned the café for ownership
Some human form gave me the slip

I asked the waiter: dogs allowed?
He seemed unhearing in the crowd
I wagered louder: whose is this?
This ball of fur, he stops to kiss

The fast approaching customer
With snarling teeth a mangy cur
Then bolder now: proprietor!
Who is this greeter at the door?

This friend of man and friend indeed
If this is so I say take heed
We met a few short strokes ago
He almost took away my toe
And though I love the furry mutts
This winsome pooch left me with cuts

I seek his master to let him know
That little problems sometimes grow
That minor scratches I’ll survive
But keep him leashed and keep him live