A few years ago, just out of the blue,
I had somehow unknowingly picked up a stray.
This mongrel was a mangy black mess.
I later heard someone gave him the name,
"Black Dog."
Not sure why this dog took a liking to me.
I wasn't looking for a mutt, but he latched on to me like a tick
and there was no shaking this unpredictable stray.
Some dogs are loving; others, protective;
many, obedient; but mine, aggressive.
Trying to train this surly beast has proven to be a constant challenge.
At first, he would lunge strait for the throat as if to choke my very life away.
A feat he nearly accomplished more than once. Each time he would attack me,
he would penetrate deeply into my flesh, targeting my vitals.
It took me lots of recovery time after each vicious attack.
Later, he would snarl as though rapid and snap vociferously.
Sometimes to this day, he still snarls but mainly to nip at my heels.
More often than not now, he will occasionally howl to proclaim his presence
in my life, thus assuring his place established within my pack.
After I resigned myself to being his owner,
I did what any responsible owner would do,
I am sure to feed him very carefully and tend to his daily needs.
I'm not sure if I walk him, or he walks me...
but we are forever shackled together by the leash.
