I spot him surveying his territory from a fence post
A misstep, a crunching leaf, and my location is compromised
Green eyes land squarely on mine
A roar, then a leap from his perch
Without pause he makes his way
Carrying, I hear, a weapon of disarmament
A contented hum intensifies as we assess each other
He, my firm legs, warm body ideal for an unabashed howdy-do
Me, his fine orange coat impressively decorated in autumn
An alliance forms with the discovery of the mole hole