I hold her down and use on her the brush which my grandmother hid away after her old dog died blind to the fact that other dogs needed cleaning too she lies patiently, enraptured at the display of affection she so rarely receives once branded a cat-killer, always hated and relegated to distant corners of the yard attended to only out of a sense of duty tardy realizations that she was a poor choice for adoption
her soft eyes are wetter than her tongue she constantly dances in circles when I come near and the patch of mossy land near the limit of her chain is marked like the days in a cell of a prisoner with her nails clawing the earth in happiness at human approach
companions in capture are the three dogs just over the fence to the south, one who is a bushy black chow with feet constantly dangling on the fence, answering now to the french which I only remember around my dog; a cocker spaniel is to the southeast, a red retriever to the east, each singing each other to wakefulness at the slightest hint of light at any of the four residences I have to sneak out the front to hide my harmonica's flashing in the streetlight; none of them sing to my music and how offended can I pretend to be anyway by that?
my puppy cowers at a loud voice; I have not been a good mother for her. she gets fresh water and food daily, a few minutes of human companionship per day except when I am feeling charitable and go read her some of what I like to call her favorite book, walt whitman's leaves of grass, and go out to speak the incomprehensible french of which I don't even remember half of the true meaning except that as "un feuille de papier" she has no right to be made of any material except wood pulp and yet is so many pounds of unused dog
sometimes I don't notice when she yips softly when I leave and sometimes I can think of nothing else for hours
when the kittens grow up and leave, i'm letting her off her chain for good, and so I have promised her all her life meanwhile she sits in the shade, panting, waiting for tomorrow's random happiness