one

a little brown dog once merrily trotted down a sunny dirt road

perhaps in my unhappiness she appeared too happy

quite oblivious I was, unaware 

of precisely who was the rescuer 

shameless she danced for my husband 

I would visit with you a time

she’s very busy, I said to him

all the while she laughed and laughed

washing the brown, a spotted white dog emerges

little clown face grinning at the world 

our gate opened and with gusto she frolic'd in

we were a waystation, delaying new enterprises

I’m in it for the squirrels and soft earth to burrow

the ice cream is delicious, may I have more?

ignoring our foolishness, the inbred stupidity

in her wise and loving discretion and embrace

we will remain forever grateful

      two

what she did with extreme panache (and always at full throttle):

• shmooped when conditions were favorable (I cannot recall a time when they were not)

• upon request sang in a deep bass
• wagged her stub of a tail until her body distorted (so hard she’d tuck her butt inward, twisted like a kidney bean, wiggling while forcing air through her nose like a bull)
• she like to stinky breath grin at you, getting right in your face, nose to nose, grinning and staring hard wiggling like a fool
• mooched and searched for crumbs and forgotten snacks
• played with little dogs as if they were her toys, rolling them around causing them great frustration and snarling annoyance, once she wore a minature doberman as a dangling earring
• threw herself down when tired and snored lustily
• ...then chattering away as she dreamed, running and yelping and sometimes howling
• when happy, she'd walk up to you and blow any and all things wet (especially boogers) every which way in exuberant joy at seeing you 
• when I needed it or when she did, she’d lay her head down in my lap, her face flattening and look up at me as if I were worthy of her boundless love
• always waiting when I came into a room, she was the first thing I saw whenever I returned home, her white face peeking at me through the slats of the shutters when I'd get out of the car
• coveted all sticks, branches, limbs
• owned all toys even if she didn’t like them, toys were her domain
• bones and rollups: chewing them until they became rancid gummy things and then swallowing and regurgitating to chew on and swallow again and again until we had to take them away permanently
• after she'd eliminate a day's eating, she'd romp around the yard, running back and forth, rejoicing at her bowel movements
• when she drank, or rather lapped up water, practically dunking her face in the bucket, she'd love coming over to you afterwards, dripping it everywhere, grinning at you "water!  I had water! isn't water great!"
• her soft white fur had a life of it’s own, we find little white bits of it in the oddest places, in every corner; and when I brushed her our world became snowbound, with white tumbleweeds everywhere.  I expect to find her hairs for the rest of my life. 
• If I were among the unholy rich, I’d give myself the ultimate indulgence by defying nature and taking a tiny bit of her to have cloned.   Don't think for a minute I wouldn't.   

       three

quiet shuffling

golden leaves rustle

dried pages turn

our book torn open, binding gone

white wrapped in flannel

of so many colors

she quieted instantly

stolen from the cloister

staccato warnings

squirrels rally avoidance

the dog next door anticipates a surprise

and I remember white feathered fur

she could have flown away

but stayed until determined free

complicit captives stockholm syndrome

prisoners of love 

       addendum

free of all tethers

I sing beneath the autumn earth

summer and stars

I, a sliver of frost 

snow melting on your tongue

the spring grass to shine

as you remember   our once upon a time

we found each other!