Retrieving

I dropped the dummy
midst the mole hills;
Jack sniffing out rabbits
In the hedge rows.
He never kills,
his to retrieve,
I call him to heel
sat and eager,
he knows the score.
point down the field
where lies the dummy.
That's the game!
All for biscuits
and my delight
I point and he is gone.
The breeze from the west,
to the east he runs
tail streaming-black
then as quick he turns
west against the breeze,
in careful sweeps
quartering the field
until he has the scent.
Straight as cupid's dart
the dummy in his mouth,
gentle as if a pheasant.
To my heel, happy eyes
a dummy at my feet,
sitting for a biscuit.
Again and yet again
we played, unfailing
retrieves, until time
for home by dusk.
 . . . . . . . .
Slippers at my feet
now feigning sleep,
Waiting for his supper.