It grins, serene, at her, its owner
a small black ear flicks in the wind,
it’s smaller than a mouse, that ear,
but the other is large as if it can
choose what to hear.

An orange tail flicks, the red one
swishes, the third one I cannot
see, but I know it’s there, I’ve felt
it when the creature first appeared,
you see.

They call this creature Aluette, but
not after the song or cheese, it’s
known instead for biting ducks and
being immune to fleas. It’s got thick
dark leather skin.

It has fur too, not too soft, and in
some places coarse. Only on its
back and knees, a tuft of fur upon
its chin, and teeth as sharp as
knives.

It has webbed paws and wicked
eyes, and loves its owner until she’s
its prize. It’ll steal her soul unless she
knows not to put tuna in its bowl, so
I’ll try to warn her.

How do I know? It stole mine first.