Memories have always made my mind swerve in circles

As if they, themselves, can’t quite figure out which direction to go

Like taking a safari, if the guide were senile and possibly less than sober

 

To your left, you’ll see my great-grandmother cursing in Hungarian

as if her kitchen was a 5 story apartment complex engulfed in flames

and the nearest firefighter was 18 miles away

because someone had the nerve to imply she was cheating at Canasta.

We snapped this photo just in time. You can’t see me in the frame, but I can see me.

Standing behind the man holding our new fangled digital camera and, trust me,

I was laughing as hard as she was cursing

But she is gone now and this memory has turned from citrine to cerulean

 

And quick! To your right

It looks like we’re just in time to see the common night predator known as “that guy”

Now don’t be fooled by his looks,

this one’s dangerous,

whatever you do, don’t make direct eye contact

See how he grabs me by the arm

Watch as my resistance becomes a broken nose and two black eyes

But wait!

See my fists transform to fire forged fury

And this night of obsidian turns orange

 

And dead ahead, behind the bushes

Watch as our playful puppy grows into dying dog

This one

This one, I never could quite figure out

When they can no longer jump onto the bed

When their aching joints move like molasses

When dinnertime no longer brings a wagging tail

And they try not to yelp as they put one pained paw in front of the other

The vet tells you “it’s time”

“It’s kinder this way”, the doc will say

“Can’t you see, she’s in great pain?”

The family gathers round

Teary-eyed and torn

Wishing she could talk

Tell you what is wrong

Where is the pain, pup?

Show me where it hurts

But I promise you that

that would only make it so much worse

 

See, let me pose a problem with these progeny pups

If they could, indeed, say what they need

That pet would look a lot like me

Too close to human

A brand new breed

 

And they would tell us where the agony lies

And we would tell them it gets better

They’d say how much it hurts, this life.

And we’d convince them that they need to fight

And this would mean the devastation

Of the “dog is man’s best friend” equation

But this has been the way for eons

And something must be done

And so dog, always the bigger man, would choose to evolve

Into something that no longer speaks

Until the only sounds they knew to make

Were grunts and barks and growls and yelps

Because then we would relearn to help

Then, and only then, you see

We’d listen to what they had to say

 

If I learned to bark as she

Do you think they’d start listening to me?

If I used yelps instead of rhymes

Would the doctor finally say “it’s time?”