222. Avon (Myshkin, 2021) · prose poem

It’s story time, folks. Parked just outside A National Park, the rain beats hard Against my Subaru. I wake up in the middle Of the night and Avon, my puppy, comes over To curl up in my arms. He is dreaming. I can feel His slight, sleek, strong body shaking, trembling. Now and then, a sighing puff. He has become A part of my nervous system, as we care for Each other, day after day, rain or shine. I have been putting off writing about Avon, Because it’s too big a task, and prone either to Saccharine, cloying generic praise, or too Vast understatement of a love affair that is huge And still growing. I am still recovering from a day of Despair last week, when I thought I lost him, And I was the worst person in the world. In the early morning torpor, taking a leak after Two hours of sleep by the side of I-40 near Amarillo, I did not notice he was missing from my car Until I stopped to get gas an hour later. What an Empty, sinking, nauseous feeling! Shame on me. Thank God Justin finally called me, waking me up Around 10:30 pm at night, after a long day of printing Flyers, posting on Facebook groups, visiting shelters And talking to warm-hearted helpful strangers. Perhaps he was going to keep Avon (what idiot Caretaker just lets a puppy slip away, anyway?) But saw my struggle to get him back and took pity, Or else the Universe heard my silent, guilty prayer. I don’t know how other puppies are, because Avon is my first and I never paid much attention To dogs and their weirdo people, until meeting Infinity's Nova, Phiona's Red, and KT’s Cashew. But Avon will put his chin on the ground, Wrinkled forehead, tail wagging like a flag waving, Signaling he wants to play, leap and almost bite. He loves to gnaw on his rope leash as we play tug, And also bites other dogs’ leashes to walk them. When he’s at his most ecstatic, energetic best, He will sprint at and around me, in circles or Sometimes straight lines. He is so fully alive! I am committed to him for the next fifteen years. Although no pets rules sometimes don’t apply To cute puppies, I have and will lose options, Spend money I don’t necessarily have, just To be with him. And to give him a great life. He gets so much praise. Intelligent. Beautiful. So calm for only six months old. So well-trained. I didn’t train him, other than to wait for food. He didn’t see or need a leash for weeks. I do take My wise friend’s advice and lay on the ground, Being with him in his world and letting him get All over me with kisses and nibbles. We do travel Together, socialize with new places, dogs and people. He is now making weird noises in his sleep, as if suckling. We had a family reunion this weekend with his mom, Nova, my favorite, ball-crazy and now a bit mean, Barking brother Diamond and sister Sedona, Avon’s favorite it seems. The person who cared For the litter until they were six weeks old Named him Tank, and cried when (only) he, went away. He has multiple homes around the country, Should we ever need to part, short or long term. He still has so much to teach me. He eats healthier Than I do, and the plan of daily hikes or runs Never quite materialized. Now that I have a family, There is a deeper responsibility I have not fully accepted, That of caring for myself so I can better care for him. At least his playful spirit has poked through the slog Of my cloudier days, and even when the occasional Atmospheric river pours down on us, at least We can wait it out together, nestled, as if forever.