Our boy will often join us in the night.
He wags his way, meanders down the hall
and stumbles in our room, squinting at light.
He bounds in bed with us as if he’s small.
He fills the space where we once talked and touched
with legs and arms that stretch like urban sprawl.
I know once he’s full-grown he won’t need much.
I’ll miss his lopey hugs, his knowing grins,
but now he crowds! His twitching paws are such
blunt weapons. With each snore, my patience thins.
Yet soon enough this pup will leave our sight.
Some alpha trainers see this as a win,
but I’ll think that the sleep he stole felt right
all curled up back to back, each three dog night.

© by Amy Baskin.
Used with the author’s permission.