A Spaniel, a Yorkie, two Jack Russells,
a Westie, and two Beagles, walk their
owners down the Sliema promenade
Barking at the myriad Pugs, who think the
British Empire still exists in these parts,
but, it does not.
I listen to the twilight bark, wondering if
Maltese barks are different than English
woofs, but these testy creatures seem
to understand each other and respect
their space on the walk. Owners vary
as owners do. Then, I watch the cats
as well, not impartial to the ten tabbies
being fed by a young girl in the shade
of the trees I cannot identify.
So, another hot day on the edge of the
Middle-Sea is marked by a domesticity
which could be in London, Guildford
or Tunbridge Wells. Dogs and cats
make us universal; humans tied to
our pets which either demand or
give attention. My walk continues
wishing the Maltese loved birds
as much as they do these four-footed
creatures of the tall flats and blue
waters. One little dog today swam
with its owner half-way through
the bay, but came back, having
more sense than his big pet
who wanted it to continue...
The little black and white
nondescript turned around and
swam back to the small tourist
audience smiling at its independence
and timing...its little black and white
head looking back at macho-man,
swimming away, but we watched
a little dog's head bobbing
in cool disdain in Balluta Bay.
