It was a good pup, running in front of traffic;
   hungry, terrified,  a slight breed with big eyes.
It's ears perked straight  at my whistle between car horns.
It came when I squatted  to the sidewalk along the park
   on that early weekend morning  I had danced til three.
It had a collar with the tags gone. 
It sat at command barely able to contain 
It's joy at obedience.
It wagged Its tail,  wanted to leap  
    but sat again when I said "no".
I scratched It's neck,  
   patted It's head,  
      calmed It a bit.

It was in need of affection so badly,
   It followed me a while, 
       long enough to let me worry  
 It wouldn't go away.
I could imagine It waiting at the door to my apartment  
       when I awoke about noon.

Then It was gone.
I couldn't wash It's smell
   from my hands for at least three days.
It must have been ***** in heat.