Millie doesn't know Shit

With these words, I comfort my dog
who feels attacked
by a dog that barking attack
from behind a wall
eight feet tall, every inch of brick.

Unseen, we are still encroaching.

My dog returns the attack which, so far, is verbal,
but the mantra I have chosen
seems to work.
I say it over and over and over
until we’ve passed.

Dogs are so oral, 
so vociferous about spatial rights,
they are almost human.
Territory, the trigger line, can be marked by blood, 
but, usually, by a squirt of urine.

Here, offense is sound or our scent
carried by the wind.

P.S.  Millie was the other dog’s name.