Charlie’s tags tell me where he goes,

busily investigating every plant in the hedgerow

every smell that lingers on the curb after the rain,

jangling so I can follow him through the thick undergrowth


Charlie’s tail curls up so far it beats against his back

when he gets excited; he’s always excited

he runs back and forth on the bank of the pond,

perks up, runs to find the source of every new sound


Charlie sleeps in a tiny ball,

curled nose to tail, in the crook of my legs,

in my lap, on a cushion below my hair,

still for a moment, until he’s on the move again.


via Daily Prompt: Jangle

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