Good Boy

There you sit on the deck,
paws so elegantly crossed.
Head held high,
observing your lot.
The breeze brings a scent
that distracts you
for but a second.
Ears perked tall,
the sound of a door
closing in the hall.
But funny you missed
the squirrel on the fence.
The warm sun
was just too much,
as your snout tipped down
and sweet sleep you found.