And so I wait.
I whine very small to remind her I’m here.
Why doesn’t the door open?
Finally, she’s in the shoes, the watch, the shirt.
I leap and leap at her and THELEASH
This helps I think. Helps her be faster.
Outside, we look at each other and know,
It’s a glorious day.
The pavement. The puddles.
Whoop, stop. I must.
Time to poop.
Now, run, run, pull, pull. Move fast.
Past cars. Bikes. All the people, the people not running.
Erkk. … Today we pass, squirrel, but I’ll stretch out my nose
To smell your squirreliness.
We walk and we stop and I look up
Where she holds the bottle, the water.
Sometimes it goes
Into my nose.
But it tastes cool. Better than the puddle
That reminds me of a cat. And tires.
I will pee here.
I pull, and I sniff.
I sniff, and I sniff more and more things
And I pull and sniff
Smelling all the many things
Until, again we run. I can’t sniff that fast.
But I try.
Today we turn a new direction. A new way. A new DARK way.
I stay close. No sniffing. No pulling.
But a LUMP, A BIG LUMP in the road. THERE.
Give it space. Lots of space.
Trash bag she says. Uh huh.
Trash bag is something scary.
I must pee here.
There are always new things.
A cat. A leaf.
And A THING, OHNOATHING
In the ROAD, A THING
Horse trailer she says. Uh huh.
Horse trailer is something scary.
Not too scary to stop and pee, though.
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