My wife came into our bedroom this morning and our dog Tally was on her back on top of our bed, begging for attention. She suggested that I write something about it, implying that perhaps I spend too much time focused on our other dog Tinker, “The Poopingest Pup on the Planet.” Although both schnauzers are adopted, Tally has only been around half as long, so there will come a time when she’ll be all I’ll have to write these Creature Features about. Most days, Tally lays around the house like I don’t exist, just waiting for my wife to come home from work. When she hears the garage door go up in the evening, she springs into action. She loves the weekends and starts to get excited when my wife doesn’t get dressed for work, and she knows it’s time for a long walk; what we now call “Schnauzerthons” since princess Tinker has a carriage to ride in and I often push it while running. 

One of Tally’s endearing habits, that is very much like a cat, is asking for her tummy to be rubbed. She now calls her “Tummy Attack Tally,” and this is my poetic tribute to her:

Tummy Attack

For undivided attention,
She gives you a poke.
You can start,
With a gentle stroke.

Her ears perk up,
Her tail begins to wag.
There’s the subtle rattle,
Of her dog tag.

She growls to be noticed,
And starts to stretch.
She definitely not asking,
For something to fetch

She lays on the floor,
Her paws in the air.
Her stomach exposed.
As if to dare.

A puppy moan,
Her eyes open a crack.
She’s asking for,
Your hands to attack.

“Scratch me right there,”
She’d say if she could.
“A little bit lower,”
“That feels good.”

Rub it in circles,
Tickle my fur.
Some playful roughness,
She’ll gladly endure.

“Itch my soft belly,”
“My tongue can’t reach there.”
“You don’t know what it’s like,”
“To be covered in hair.”

It’s an invitation,
Not an invasion.
It doesn’t even need,
A special occasion.

Her eyes filled with need,
She’s posed on her back.
Tally just loves,
A Tummy attack.

copyright 2018 johnstonwrites.com