Black Dog Poem by Francis Poole

BLACK DOG
Yesterday morning I found muddy dog pawprints
on the front porch. They were too big for a fox
and coyotes only come around in summer. Funny
because we live on a busy road and never see any stray dogs.
Later that day I looked out the bathroom window
and saw a large black dog walking along the wooden fence
between our house and the neighbor's. I figured he must be
the same dog that had left pawprints on the porch. He stopped
and sniffed at the opening at the bottom of the fence but it was
too small for him to crawl under. Then he began walking in tighter
and tighter circles in the yard as if trying to find a perfect spot to claim.
Finally he stopped and sank down, front legs forward, his head
pointed straight ahead, ears at full alert as if on guard. I rapped on the window
to get his attention and he looked up. For a minute our eyes locked as we tried to suss each other out. To me he had a foreboding Anubis-like demeanor. With news of politics, wars and other disasters breathing down our necks I saw him as a portent of more bad things to come. To him I must have seemed the suspicious human type, staring back coldly and offering no welcome and no handout. He could probably sense my wariness and unease. After a few minutes he got up, shook himself off and walked away. I felt like an asshole.
It wasn't his fault I wanted him gone. He had done nothing to me
and we might have become friends. But good vibes or bad I didn't need any more omens to feed.