Not a pet I’d get. You try to leash
a wobbly two-legged manimal
and walk it down the street,
heading toward catastrophe,
skull to ass to feet. Mumbling,
squalling, stumbling, falling, peeing
on or tripping over paws, yours or
those of other dogs. One hears they're
smart. Not so we can tell. All we see
them do is eat and fart. (They sleep
quite well.) But try to make them heel,
play dead, roll over, fetch a bone –
or indicate the least capacity to think:
they’d rather squat alone and blink.
Primitive in realms olfactory and otic,
they essentially can’t hear or smell.
Thank the Dog Star I’m a sturdy
main-line canine quadruped, four
feet on the ground, intelligent,
true blue. Keep bipeds in a zoo.