getting another dog,
having
healed emotionally
from the losing the last one.
i've almost
forgotten
about all the furniture
he chewed,
the hats
and gloves,
the boots, the shoes.
i've almost blocked out
of my mind
the smell
of what he'd leave
in the corner
when
crouching or lifting his
little leg.
i barely recall
the dead
birds, he'd drag in,
the mice,
the debris.
my ears can no longer
hear
his perpetual barking
out the window,
or at the tv,
or when the doorbell rang.
did he hog the bed with
his long
body stretched out
diagonally, yes, but so what.
i've nearly forgotten
about those snowy
nights
when i begged him to pee,
standing in
the slush
and wind, or
those
vet bills at five hundred
a visit,
strangely all of it
no longer seems
to worry me.
i might be ready. maybe.
but doubtful.
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