Cerberus by A J Dalton

Photo by Kyle Larivee on Unsplash

I love my Hades master

though he never likes to play.

I’d love to fetch a stick

or have him throw a bone:

after all, he has enough

littered across his home.

Most people think me fearsome

with these three heads of mine–

yet I’m anyone’s for a biscuit:

my bark’s much worse than my bite

I’ll only nibble you a little bit,

please don’t put up a fight.

I’m meant to guard this door

from everyone who visits,

I’ll even chase them down–

and drag them to the ground

perhaps to bury them under,

where they’ll sleep safe and sound.

It’s sort of like a game

where I hide all of the bodies:

it doesn’t please the master much

and he growls at what he finds

but once he scratched me round the ear

so he really doesn’t mind.

I play-fought once with Hercules

and got in trouble for that–

oh, then came little Orpheus

whose music sang me to sleep.

Apart from that, I’m a good dog really

whom you’d surely like to meet.

Bio

A J Dalton is a UK-based writer. He’s published the Empire of the Saviours trilogy with Gollancz Orion, The Satanic in Science Fiction and Fantasy with Luna Press, the Dark Woods Rising and Green Man Ascendant poetry collections with Starship Sloane, and other bits and bobs. He lives with his monstrously oppressive cat named Cleopatra.

Author's note

I've always felt slightly sorry for guard dogs, left outside in all weathers, tackling dangers all alone. Although they have owners, they are apart from them, and away from their affection, for long periods. I have always wondered if Cerberus ever simply wanted to play with newcomers, rather than terrify and rend them to pieces. Maybe his bark was worse than his bite...or playful nip.