We Come Back As Dogs

-

What if the truth is

we come back as dogs

who can’t tell us

who they really are,

which is why

they act crazy —

spinning in circles,

chasing their own tails,

licking our faces

like they’re made of

quickly melting ice cream.

Maybe there’s a little carryover

from their previous lives,

which is why they nap all day

like Nana or Poppy used to

when their eyelids became as heavy

as the slow decline of afternoon light.

Or maybe 

when we reenter the world

we return to our prehistoric state

when early man could only say

I’m hungry

I need to go outside

Or

I love you more than you’ll ever know

by barking

the way all dogs 

do 

Sometimes with their eyes

when they stare into our souls,

which they can see as clearly

as a CAT scan.

or when they try to sign to us

with their jiggling butts

like they’re desperate

to win a game of charades

Playing fetch?

The message is clear:

I will always return to you

Sleeping at your feet?

I dream of you.

This pantomime companionship

never lasts long enough.

Ten years.

Fifteen if you’re lucky.

It takes that long

to learn the way of the dog

who despite

the sudden decline

remains a puppy

right up to their final breath.

Which may be

their lesson to us all:

Stay young.

Stay daffy.

Stay eager.

Devour every moment

as if it’s one more chance

to prance 

through a rambling field

of playground snow.

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