Her fur is thin as a page from a book,
her eyes are Oreos sweet and small and rough.
Her run is like a cheetah,
low to the ground, jumping while she goes.
Her bark is like wind last Friday night,
clattering on the windows of my house.
Her walk is sassy like my sister
when she’s angry with me.
If she were a river she would be fast flowing,
like the rugby player Ben Kavanagh.
She is my dog Mini.
By John
