While Walking My Dog’s Ghost



While Walking My Dog’s Ghost

I spot a baby rabbit
lying still in a clump of grass
no wider than my hand.

It quivers, but I pretend
not to have seen, for fear
that the dog, ghost or not,

will frighten and chase it
into the brush, beyond
its mother’s range,

perhaps to become lost
and thirsty, malnourished,
filthy, desperate, much

like the dog when we
found each other that hot,
dry evening so long ago.



This first appeared here in September 2016.


22 thoughts on “While Walking My Dog’s Ghost

  1. I definitely remember this one. I resonate with animal/human “finding each other” …
    There is possibility in a ghost presence disturbing a young creature … young ones still receptive to all sorts of vibes we older folk talk ourselves out of (likely true for rabbits as well as humans!)

    Liked by 2 people

  2. I loved this one when I first read it and even more now. Strange that it popped into my inbox today, the anniversary of losing my beloved dog two years ago.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Oh yes, I remember this poem! Lovely tribute, Bob! Reminds me of the many ways my two dogs blessed my life and yes, sometimes I turn a corner and see a goofy grin, wagging tail…

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Having fond memories of my own animals, I fully understand the association here. Even so,
    I’m bad at welcoming new ones. Parting comes too soon, too often. While I cherish the memories, visualizing that final curtain is always there, even in the good times, so I’m loathe to start the relationship. And I hate how selfish that sounds.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Pingback: While Walking My Dog’s Ghost – She Writes in Grey

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