Beach Day

I didn’t get to drive to my local beach;
instead, we went to a different one, nicer.
We took my little dog, a loud barker.
She was ok in the car, quiet, for once.
She’d lie by my feet or lie in my lap.
She’d look out the window and smell the air.
She didn’t bark much when we arrived,
but once we started walking down to the shore,
things really started to change; the yapping began.
She was curious about the fishy smell
and tried to eat things she found among the rocks.
My brother was walking her near the water;
she ended up getting soaking wet but just shook it off.
I sat with her to take a break;
a lady with two little dogs says, “What a cute puppy.”
My cute little puppy responds, “BARK!! YAP!!
“Wow; she’s so loud,” says the kind lady with tiny dogs.
The yapping didn’t stop after that.
Everywhere we went; she yapped, yapped.
Everyone she saw, she yapped at, loudly.
Her yapping got piercing, deafening, maddening.
Couldn’t wait to get the yapper home.
She’d yap on the way home, for no reason at all.

picture credit: Alejandro Gallegos and Crisanto Gallegos de Robles

Copyright@2016 Martina R. Gallegos


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