Now, I am partnered with a foolish woman who doesn't understand that threats are everywhere.
She naively walks past dogs who might lunge up and rip into her throat. She ignores plastic bags dancing in the wind that can cover her face as she fights for breath.
She doesn't run very fast
She always hears the mailman last
And I don't think her sense of smell is working very well
She walks on clumsy feet, her head floats in the air,
She can't meow and has no fur and doesn't seem to care
that when she sings her nonsense words and baby-talks my name
I look at her politely then must close my eyes in shame
She calls me wiggle butt.
And buggie.
And cuddle bug.
Little one.
Love bug.
Herc-a-jerk.
Hercules.
At this point I just come to anything
Because it might mean food.
Or treats.
Or a walk.
Or cuddles.