The Free Agent

Have you heard? Mischief runs on
long, loping legs propelled by a
mind intent on the irresistibility of
adventure. She is excitably manic,
irritably undisciplined, so hugely
intelligent, able effortlessly to evade,
ignore, bypass, forestall explicit
instructions she very well knows 
pertains to her as well as the more
reliably biddable dogs in the pack.
At will she takes unapproved leave to
meander, a free soul, to provoke deer
and skunk, raccoon and porcupine.
When they take their revenge, she
slinks home, surfeit with the avails
of freedom, dank and reeking as she
is angrily washed free of ordure, 
quills plucked, forbidden the sofa,
subdued at last. A state of penance
she knows and they too, soon to
once again dissipate into jaded,
fastidiously faded memory.