Mutt Poem by Gary Witt

I am the lab mix
Tethered to the bike rack
Outside the bagel shop.

He went in that door there.
That one. There.
Hours ago in dog-years.
I think he’s still in there,
Swilling hazelnut coffee,
Still I grin, still my tail sweeps
In broad, quick, uncontrollable strokes.
Still my eyes fix on the door,
Then on the window that reflects only
Traffic and noise.

People that are not him pass me by,
Pat my head, scratch my ears.
I can’t see him, I know he’ll come back, I know…
With hazelnut on his breath and lox on his fingers
I know he’ll be back…
No I don’t. Yes I do. No I don’t. Yes I do.

Look, I have a tennis ball,
Fuzzy fluorescent,
Bright yellow tennis ball
Lovingly saturated in my own smiling drool.
Here, take it, no really you can, here take it
It bounces, see? It bounces, bounces…
Now take off this effing leash, this leash,
And throw the damn ball, the ball.
C’mon c’mon c’mon
Throw it throw it throw it.
And without this effing leash
I will chase it down
As it bounces like a rabbit, rabbit,
Yellow fluorescent round rabbit,
And I will chase it down
And pounce on it, snap!
I mean, snap!
No, there, snap!
Returning with a nod, a grin, and a prance,
Tail curled high
Uncurtailed
And maybe I’ll give it up and you can throw it again.
Maybe I will,
But it’s mine, you know, mine.
You’ve got to throw it exactly right.
So, c’mon.
Whadya say?
Just until he comes back.