The dog sat on the window sill 5th

The dog sat on the window sill; living room 402.

He didn’t sniff, or bark or growl as other dogs might do.

He just sat.

Life size, staring at the wall;

Stretched out, laying, head up raised...

Plaster cast and painted/glazed.

It looked lifelike, well, quite a bit.

But all he’d ever do was sit.

And he seemed to be always there,

An ornament of fifties ware.

He was a collie dog, I think –

With pointed nose and light brown fur.

Not threatening, not angry, no snarling teeth,

And a flat white, chalky base underneath.

I cannot remember how old I was

I can only imagine now.

That I could have only been six or five or maybe less

And a bit timid and sensitive, I admit it, yes.

So.

One day I was at home, all alone.

And to my children’s active mind

He came alive.

It scared me to cry, sobbing tears of fear...

To stand on the window shelf

 (presumably next to the collie dog himself)

And to shout:  ‘help!’  ‘help!’  ‘help!’

Out of the opened top window..

Did he turn his plaster head or growl?

Move his eyes somehow?

I do not remember now.

But I was a little, alone and terrified me.

My cries they were soon answered...

By a neighbour from 400.

Mrs Hollis, I remember her name.

A round, posh, serious lady

And in she came.

(the back door was always open)

And reassured me, comforted me, cajoled me.

And I was ok again.

The moment obviously made an impression on me

Cos’ I can still remember it clearly.

And it leaves unspoken questions,

From well over 50 years ago.

That have  answers that I will never know.