A poem (I wrote) about Jake

If He Could Speak

What would he say to me -- this yellow half-breed of a dog --
   if he could speak?

Would he tell me how he resented being called “Right Shoulder”
   for the first 10 weeks of his life before he came to us?

Would he tell us how much he hated the trainer who taught him
   obedience like a Nazi SS man??

Would he congratulate himself on robbing the old Dylan of his
   alpha dog standing in our house?

Would he complain about all the days when he walks around
   kong-in-mouth begging for someone to throw it?

Would he brag about his success in the kibble strike that
   resulted in my making his food now?

Would he pour out his jealousy of listening to our love-making as
   he remembers his manhood was taken at an early age?

Would he take on the surliness of a teenager who is out to 
   impress upon the world that he is in control?

All questions that remain answerless as he carefully licks a paw
   and settles in for yet another nap on the black couch.