The ounce of human in a hound

 Follow down little ribbons
The square tile sleeper
The midnight barker
Strange human expressions across your dogface

follow me to the gate 
using all force that springy trim legs boost with
furry hairy ordered pelt slowly moting unashamed
leaving piles of hair to accumulate across empty smooth pavers

I give you this little master ribbons
governing over the seven meters of lawn
with a quiet grace that scares nor creeeper
Nor bold and swift motion crawler

Eyes can speak a language
elaborate exactly what you want
I cannot make you human 
Tiny pupils bearing into me

emotional brown eyes everwanting
something beyond reason
There is no need for you to become human
For that is the biggest trait.