Imperfection Perfect

I’m not a dog person.

I have a dog.

A perfect dog,

so it seemed

in the beginning.

Each year as he grows older,

and older,

and

older…

his non-barking willpower

grows weaker,

and weaker,

and

weaker :(

Perfect dogie no more.

Sometimes…

during a bad dogie barkathon

a cast stone statue

of man’s best friend

sitting by the food dish

content in all that materializes

in the complicated world

just beyond his nose

is so desperately 

desired.

You know…

that perfect dog.

I'm just perfection misunderstood, mommy dearest :)