This one starts a little...
Strange.

One night,
I was washing my car,
Just getting rid of the pollen
And self-pity I had suppressed
For 3 weeks of quarantine

I'd just picked up the hose,
Just to wash off the dirt, the impurities
When my dog gave a quiet warning

I paused, holding a running hose
She didn't often give these
Except to me

Only to me
When she couldn't reach me
And she was worried for me

So of course I glanced at her
And she looked, exasperated
At best.

Like she couldn't believe
She'd ever considered the possibility
That I could be out in the dark by myself

But when I turned,
I couldn't see anything.
It was too dark.

But,
She could and she barked

So,
I turned again and spotted
A hint of light in our neighbours doorway
Just across the street

Somehow I felt eyes on me
And I let my light go out
Not without noticing that she was just as

Exasperated as before
Like a mother that couldn't believe
Her kid just tried to lick the wall, again

I casually turned off the water in the dark
And started up the stairs when she barked
The hair stood up on my arms.

It wasn't playful, it wasn't nice.
It was a warning, either to me or others, I didn't know
But she was about to jump the fence
And I knew her instincts well enough
that it wouldn't be good.

But then my partner opened the back door
Checking on me as I stepped onto the back porch
And she herded me indoors,
Granting a few glances across the street.

Somehow, I didn't find myself wallowing
In self-pity anymore.
I genuinely forgot a whole 3 weeks of it.

Instead I focused on the fact that my own dog
Had not only alerted me
But that shed somehow alerted my partner
While shuffling me inside with a chiding look.