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That One Dog

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That one dog that awakens and stretches so peacefully
like the woman during an afternoon yoga class.
His joints go crack as he arches his back downward toward the shiny hardwood floors.

That one dog that cuddles so willingly, so lovingly, and so graciously
as if always yearning for a loved one.
That one dog that curls up on the sandpaper-like concrete stoop
day in and day out waiting patiently for some action.

That one dog that protects and growls so ferociously
as a stranger runs past through the chilled morning air.
His razor sharp teeth snap together like a great white,
and a thick drool flows from the side of his mouth.

That one dog that plays fetch happily with the little boy
as if today was his last day to play.
Woosh; his tail flings back and forth like a metronome.

That one dog that is left out in the pelting rain
that humid afternoon when man and woman had an argument.
He whines like a baby, but man’s thundering voice overpowers all.

That one dog that decided to wander off,
but cannot find his way home; he’s like a lost puppy.

That one dog with the scratched, bent, worn name tag, Mac;
it might have saved his life that night.
That one dog with the dull silver numbers around his neck;
thank god he had that name tag.

That one dog that returned home in an unfamiliar car;
man and woman were worried sick.
They waltz outside in their soft pajamas
through the brisk darkness of the night.

That one dog that disobeyed like a troubled child,
but still got all the love in the world.
Man tosses him a crunchy brown dog nugget,
and his tail wags yet again.

That one dog that is always by man’s side,
and never wants to leave him.

That one dog that keeps on loving…



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