Little black dog with brown paws
and a brown mask
and a sweet ruffle of brown fur on her bum
just beneath her black whip of a tail.
Ears like airplane wings
just at the tips.
She used to be called Buddy
until no one called her anything at all.
“Hey, you!” maybe.
Names to run from.
Buddy wasn’t always lost.
Once she owned a boy.
It was the boy who named her.
(“I know she’s a girl,” he’d...