The dog calls us
to be our best dog self
or invent one if we don’t have it.

The dog sighs
into ham at the table,
believes that now
there will always be ham —
the growl and the whine
having made it so.

The dog wishes
for all doors to remain open,
all beds a field of glory
and pushing
head end or butt end
against some part of human.

The cat person resists, then
invents a dog self again,
seeks to know, again,

who the good boy is.