I've mentioned the new puppy before
so it won't come as a surprise
that I'm reading a book about how dogs think.
I want to know how the flea collar feels
around his thickening neck, next to the skull
and crossbones collar, and why he tucks
his tail under when he sleeps,
and if when he is, for a few hours, in the crate,
which seems cozy enough, he devises
a plan to pay me back for this captivity.
I want to understand his relentless
drive to be where I am, to trod down the hall
and back again with his heavy paws
("That is going to be a big dog," everyone says)
even into the bathroom, which I typically
prefer to be private.
He won't go out in the rain unless
I'm standing out there too, both of us soaked
to the bone. He won't sleep without one eye
on me if I move from the space beside him.
Why would this animal
devote himself to me so utterly, I who
really can't be trusted not to throw shoes
or swat a nose when his love bites bite
too hard. I who throw a fit about the ***
just inside the door, I who deny him access
to the cat. I who write poems
about his private life and study him like a ******
while he goes on sleeping.