this puppy
obsessed with this cheese bone
she’ll never forget
that it sits on the window sill
waiting for her
taunting her
with it’s strong smell
and stronger memories
of hours spent
gnawing
and licking
and chomping
and obsessing
why oh why can’t her humans see
just how much she
deserves
her cheese bone
back
she whines
she barks
she sighs
we do not give it back
kip is home!
kip is back!
literally
everyone
in this house
[including kip]
is so happy they are home!
the puppy snoofed and kissed and croodled
the cat hasn’t left the couch by kip’s side
for more than a few minutes
and i have been in a far more
relaxed state
feeling more like myself
with my kip by my side
[and kip feels the same
with me by theirs]
it’s so strange and beautiful to have found
this wonderful little family
knock
knock
knock
says construction?
someone outside?
a random sound?
both myself and the puppy are surprised
and guarded
guarding the house and all its insides
from the potential
knock
knock
knock
of a hammer
or strong strong fist
or even an unknown piece of equipment
it left
it stopped
as quickly as it started
and the echoing
knock
knock
knock
plays in my ears
once the ringing of the puppy’s barks
disappears
i wonder
what
in the world
that
knock
knock
knock
actually was…
a moment
with a stray cat
yelling at me as i looked past the spot
i usually check
for cats
a moment
with a hawk
screeching over my head
and actually seeing it
soar
away
a moment
with all the birds
who eat the cat food we put out for the strays,
the starlings and mockingbirds and robins and wrens and blue jays
[would they all actually eat the bird food
if we put up a bird feeder, or is purina
always going to be their
meal of choice?]
a moment
with our silly dog
whining at all the other
canines walking past
a moment
with squirrels
with skunks
with raccoons and possums at night
with rats along the indoor subway line
and the pigeons flocking outside
i cannot express what it means
to me
to have all these animals around us
and
get to take advantage of living inside the city
the bronx is truly a beautiful place
it’s destroying me
this whole “don’t touch the animals” track
we’ve been on lately
i am a puppy croodler
a cat lap person
a snuggler and kisser of all animals around me
[so long as they let me]
and petting them
brings me
such joy
but with the swelling
and the red eyes
and the misery that benadryl barely breaks up at night
i suppose not touching the animals
because i am
*technically*
allergic
is a smart move
[but the misery could also be alleviated
with a soft and floofy cuddle…]
[damn body
attacking me
for one of the few good things in my life]
trying to write poetry
as our guest cat rubs his face
all over my hands
and arms
and laptop
and screams for attention
and pines for the outside
i know he does not miss
he is clearly far more at home
in a lap
than in the snow
we named him Tab
because he seems intrigued by Computer
and we can always pretend
it’s because he’s a tabby cat
and i love him so much
but i’ll be happy
to have my own cat love me again
when we no longer have a guest feline
interrupting our day to day
but i could not could not could not leave him
outside in the negative lows
and two feet of forecasted snow
so
i let him walk into our house
and our lives
and he is so sweet
and so loving
and so nice
[and even kip is smitten]
but, like any good cat, he also hassles a fair bit,
and though i’ll miss his antics
and jumps
and hundred different meows
all made using his
whole entire face,
he’s gotta get fixed
and maybe find a home
somewhere far away from
the outside that he knows —
thank goodness for friends
with shelters
they help run
puppy snoofs
plant droops
kip shivers
first-appointment jitters
calmed by music and poetry
and coffee
this puppy
is so damn cute
i cannot handle it
i cannot handle it
playing with the squeaker of a long-gone toy
placing it gently in my hand
and nudging it forward
for me to throw
and the utter delight as she scrambles
on all of her feeties
trying to catch the squeaker as it bounces
unevenly
across the floor
or the container from yesterday’s dog ice cream
handing it off to me
in order to play tug
or just lick it some more
getting the last little bits of flavor
out from the waxed cardboard
or just laying on the ground
and looking up at me
with her giant, beautiful, trusting, dark-rimmed
puppy dog eyes
and white eyebrows
[evolutionarily placed there
just so her species
could mimic mine]
and i don’t always know what she’s thinking
but i know she’s trying to communicate with me
with little
stomps of her feet
or half-breathy boofs
or a hesitant wag of her tail
or just a side-look
and my heart melts
and i am putty for her
because she is putty for me
and we collapse into each other
enjoying being
puppy and human
and not too dissimilar
for a moment
in time
the puppy is so whine-y
and hassle-y
and i think she just wants
to play with me
or have me
play with her
but i never know exactly what she wants
attention?
scritches?
a throwing of the ball?
to just have us not be staring at a screen?
[i mean, i’m writing this whole poem
with my eyes only on her
checking in every now and then
to make sure i’ve hit
the right button on my keyboard,
but she’s still whining
still hassling
still being
a silly little
waggity-tailed
puppy
with her gorgeous brown eyes
gazing up at me
and her little puppy barks
melting
my damn heart]
we are good kips
who do our things
that we set out to do
in the mornings
me with my poetry
kip with their programming
puppies with their naps
and cats with their…whatever cats do in the early hours
kipventures 