My dog,

the sleepy, furry creature that he is,

gets up only at the sound of the cabinet door.

Like one of Pavlov's dogs responding to the sound of a bell -

he runs,

for his food.

his kibbles. his bits.

He waits for the hand to drop his treasure down.

and later, that hand he licks,

with his warm, rough tongue...

In gratitude

My brothers poem:

my little dog named stuart wakes up with his dad at 7:15 in the morning

with his dad. he loves to play. [especially with chuka, his bff.]

and in the evening he waits for his daddy to come home and eats dinner with

his dad, brother,and his mother. then he sleeps with daddy

THE END.