Walking in the Rain

Nothing brings joy
to a young dog
like rolling in wet grass.

"Cut that out!" I say.

She smiles,
rolls some more,
gets up and shakes off
water from my neighbor's lawn.

Now it's time
for spontaneous affection,
jumping on clean jeans
with muddy paws,
ready to lick my face
if I stoop to her level.

"Where's your dignity?" I ask.

Her ears perk up.
She tilts her head
and stares at me
with curious dark eyes.

"Woof," she says.

And I understand.