We meet on the trail, the morning dogs, veterans all
unleashed. Found footsore in streets, cowering

in shelters, chained in yards, abandoned on high-
ways, newly baptized; Murray, Lexi, Toby, Liza,

Minnie, Buster, and Sam, Calvin, Lily, and Gentle
Annie. They are owners now of people, homes, cars,

things; bowls, water dishes, blankets, bones, toys
that squeak, toys that roll, their own beds, sometimes

children, sometimes cats. Free, they worry, have whine
troubled dreams, leave nose smears on front windows

from waiting. Each return a reunion, yips, leaps, or like
Argus, ears lowered, tail wagging. All rescues are mutual.