Gentleman in a Garden, to His Dog

COME hither, Dog! I caught your sidewise look.
The garden’s empty; see, we are alone.
Let’s growl a bit. I’ll lay aside my book,
For I, like you, but gnawed an ancient bone

With little meat upon it! What’s the use Of more pretense between us? We are men
And we have toiled; the sun is our excuse
For shady gossip ere we gnaw again.

I’m sorry, lad, I spoke in such a heat
Because you snarled and bristled up your hair
This morning, when that chow across the street
Made smug advances, with his master there.

I felt I must. I said you were too old
To nurse a grudge; and yet I must confess
I’m just as bad, for if the truth were told,
I like his silly master even less.

And, lad, I liked your frankness even more
At Her pink tea in there this afternoon,
When you strolled, unsuspecting, through the door,
And found me toying with a cup and spoon.

You eyed me gravely; then I saw you stride
Through all their banter with untroubled mind,
I saw you leave the room, and then outside
Rejoin the tag and bobtail of your kind;

To bark at some chance stranger passing by,
Or wag such tales as pass among the boys;
Or start upon a sudden hue and cry,
Gaining conviction from each other’s noise.

I felt your pity as you passed me by;
I knew you knew I’d try to join you soon.
And am I wrong, or did you wink your eye,
As I stood toying with a cup and spoon?