Saturday, October 4, 2008

THE DOG

He knew he shouldn't urinate inside. He remembered what had happened the last time he couldn't control himself. The man had not been happy. He had raised his voice and forced the dog's nose into the puddle. He locked the dog outside for the night, where the dog could urinate anywhere he wanted. It had been cold and dark and not even the exotic scents of wild animals could make him feel better. He feel asleep curled up in the pool of light seeping through the back door window. In his dream he dug through trash and treed a squirrel; in the morning he dug a hole in the garden and urinated on the same tree from his dream. The yard seemed big, then small. The world was a mystery. When the man appeared and made some kind sounds, the dog felt safe. He went back inside and ate food from his bowl, curled onto his bed, and fell asleep. He dreamt he crawled under the man's covers for a creature that smelled like applewood smoke. He awoke and roamed the rooms in search of the man. He drank some water and thought about dirt. Constantly, the urge to urinate.

1 comment:

Khadija said...

oooh. why do i see myself in the doggyness of this dog?
tell me chad, this is the best poetry i've read for a while.
your loyal, yet critical eerrhem, Fan