In Memory of Spot

Spot quietly accepted his role as family dog
ate cereal from a spoon
wore a bib
put up with me.

Learned to sit up
and say, “Please.”
Ran to meet me
when I came home from school.

Never complained about being saddled
with a name from Dick and Jane.
Slept in the basement.
Ate Red Heart dog food from a can.

Barked at the mailman.
Broke his back leg.
Thumped around in a cast.

Stayed out of the frontroom
and off from the furniture.
Knew his place.

Except when he didn’t.
Except when he escaped out the back screen door
and raced free through the neighborhood,
looking for girl dogs,
enticing them,
and fathering lots of little Spots.

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