Walking along, down the concrete pavement,
mother with son and dog off it's leash.
The little rascal got jumpy, clawing
the boy’s shorts, pulling
his shoelaces, growling at his shoes,
biting his trousers then his ankle.
He swung his foot into the mutt's side and
felt the swing of his mother's left hand.
His head jolted back and he met her fierce eyes,
immobilised. Her voice exploded,
“You have to let dogs bite you, Nathan,
that’s what they do”.