I Am a Dog

I am a dog.

I’ve spent my whole life in this back yard. I know every nook and cranny of this place.

It’s really green in the summer. There’s a tree near the house that has a forked trunk. I think the top looks like the hair of one of those characters I’ve seen on T, except the color is green, not red. I’ve watched that show with my family. It’s called “The 3” something or other. The name of the character I think was Larry.

Not far from the tree is a small garden of red roses. The owner just came out and took a picture of one to send to his wife in another country far away from here.

The little girl in our family has a sandbox with raised wooden walls. There is not much sand, but there are several buckets to collect it.

The yard is flat near the house, but in the back there are two separate embankments.  It’s all green back there.

There are birch and pine trees, some smaller trees and high grass.  Each embankment has its own wooden steps that lead to some houses you can barely see.

On the other side of the yard is a large wooden storage shed with a red metal, sloped roof and white wooden walls.  Near it is an overgrown garden.

Right next to me are two bushes with pretty  yellow flowers. There are pots light orange and purple flowers sittng near them.

There is a single mushroom standing in the yard in the distance. Also in the distance is a birdhouse attached to a birch tree. You can barely make it out, as it is birch-colored also.

I really like our yard. I don’t understand why the humans leave it so much, though. As I said, I am here all the time, but they ought to turn their hearts toward home more.


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