Bob was born behind Blackpool Tower.
He quickly got used to sleeping
on wet concrete and chewing scraps
from bins with the crooked teeth
in his smiling overbite. His hair is
a grubby white, his eyes have seen
a few dark summers. “Half pug,
half shih tzu,” Bob’s owner says
encouraging his best friend to get
out of the spiky bush and enjoy the cricket
ground us humans are gossiping on.
“He loves it here,” Bob’s owner says,
looking down at the mud on his own jeans,
“…and it gets me out of the house,”
he continues, as the meaning of the words
‘rescue dog’ grows legs and runs.

Carl Burkitt 2024