by Harijan

Dear Rambunctious,

Once I had a dream in me.
I called you Peanut.
You had gotten lost
A teenie little puppy
Your mommy nowhere to be found.

I took you home.
A skittish brown mutt
startled at everything,
even your own squeaking toy –
an orange rubber dinosaur.

Home alone one day,
You tore my book bindings.
I yelled at you;
and you cowered.
And for the next thousand days
You taught me to be human.

Smart dog,
You sat;
You laid down;
You rolled over;
You stood;
You twirled;
You waited;
You went;
You fetched;
Your commander,
I picked up your poo.

One spring Carolina day,
while I laid my troubled mind down
in a dharma field,
You ran away
chasing butterflies
and other critters nondescript.

When I came to,
you were nowhere to be found.
“Peanut!” I called.
You didn’t come
“Peeeeeaaaanut!” I called again,

You appeared
short of breath
grasses twice as tall,
and my fears popped
like silly bubbles.

Oh, Peanut!
How happy you were
to see me
after my cadaver studies.
Even more so relieved
to finally relieve your bladder.

I am wholly responsible
for your lifelong battle
with hydronephrosis
and urinary incontinence.

It was a grand summer
by Lac Leman,
Riding bicycle,
Playing chess at the park.
I told mes ami
about you
and your big floppy ears.

Must have been difficult
for AJ
to break that unwelcome news
on a Friday afternoon,
which got me
crying the miserable weekend
lost on my foot
lost of you.

Another thousand days passed.
the innocence in me
is tender
from the occasional thought of you
and how you loved me
without your condition,
and despite my condition.

Oh, Peanut.

May you rest in peace
with all the biscuit
you ever dreamt of.