The Linnet's Wings Summer 2014 | Page 58

These dogs are not those dogs one two three all black and white running after Frisbees ball sheep These dogs sit at my feet white yellow black muzzle the hands dangling at the ends of my arms They don’t watch me sleep I tested the electric collar on myself So those dogs wouldn’t chase cars jumped ten feet at a shock that didn’t faze them Approaching, retreating, Deciding it was worth it, a singul ar jolt of pain to bring order to the universe These dogs are chaos bark at their own reflection in the dishwasher let us dress them as Santa Claus wear bunny ears, poke their noses through the knotholes in the fence to visit neighbor dogs they recognize as kin, not Those dogs saw everywhere only the Other even in We who patted their heads and brushed their coats and filled their bowls It was their job to curtail our tendencies to wander to bite to keep us safe.