A Poem For Napoleon

 

A Poem For Napoleon

We took you from the Colerain SPCA

A little short puppy

With a tattoo 

Where your balls used to be.

The first time you met Lily,

You nipped her cheek so much that it bled.

In Cincinnati, you would sit on the armrest of the couch,

Legs spread out like a reptile,

Nose stuck beneath the blinds

To bark at any passersby you saw.

Prone to ear infections 

Due to your hairy Wookiee feet,

You would growl and snap

Whenever I tried to clean your ears.

Your nicknames were the following:

Pupperton-maximus,

Po-Po,

Wubus,

And wubbydoodle.

When they put you under at the vet

To clean your ears,

You clamped your tiny jaws

Onto a vet-tech's finger.

In your old age, you mellowed

and mostly kept around my heels

when I was in the kitchen.

Blind and deaf, you wandered out of the yard

Just last week to be picked up

By two older ladies 

Who took you

To David's vet clinic in Rising Sun.

You passed on the cool floors of the kitchen

Where you preferred to lay.

I buried you at the farm

Next to Lily

Your packmate

And true love.

I will miss your little short feet,

Your floppy ears,

Your shaggy coat,

And The way you rested your head

Chin jutting outward.

Little old man,

Last of the pack,

Vestige of my youth,

My first dog.

Goodbye.