BY ABRIELLA GUERTIN
Copyright is held by the author.
My first dog’s
First owner
Disappeared one day
And that old bird
She lived alone for weeks
Until someone thought to check the house
The owner is still missing
Presumed dead
And the dog long gone too
Throat cancer
I was the only one with her
When she moved on
Watched her stomach stop
The gentle rise and fall
The vet clasped her hands, it’s over
But no no no, that’s my girl, don’t you know?!
I’d feed her peanut butter from her special spoon
And walk her every morning, as far as Mom let me go
She’s gone on now
And the buttercream house
On Woburn Street, with Meme and Pepe next door
It’s been sold twice over
Meme and Pepe are dead
Both houses chopped up to rid of Fisher ghosts
The maple tree in the yard long hacked down
Modern art replacing my school crafts on the walls
Playful blue cabinets choked out by an inexorable grey
The girl that ran wild in that house
She runs wild in me
She understands, empathizes
If she saw me
As if we were strangers on the street
What would she think?
Would she like what I’ve
Done with the place?
Full breasts and body mods?
Things I’ve chosen
Things forced upon me
Would she understand the difference?
Would I make her laugh?
Would she think I’m smart
(but not as smart as her)?
I’d have to let her down
She always knew I would
All those years with her heart set on Brown
But I must believe she’d be proud
Of the life I made for us
And how I keep her memory alive
In my Dalmatian cheeks
In my flying saucer eyes
In my unwavering respect
For the little guys
***
Abriella Guertin is a writing student at Champlain College, (Burlington, VT) focusing on creative non-fiction and poetry. Look for her work in the upcoming “Young People’s Poetry” issue of POETRY Magazine, to be published in January 2025.
