I first saw you on my birthday You were not the plan We drove miles up the mountain To the animal sanctuary, coming to see another dog…Cliff? Charlie? We brought your soon-to-be “sister” in tow, already a neurotic mess of a puppy. She fell in the pool the night we took her home. She’s never fully recovered Living Free Animal Sanctuary Free living in rectangular outdoor cages of fencing Little princess was afraid of Chauncey on sight “You have to see Timmy.” “Don’t you think they would just love Timmy?” A woman in her late 50s or 60s name drops you like you are her favorite member of the Beatles. You run gleefully towards us, bounding along the green grass, finally getting a little of that “free” living Your tiny chihuahua body has the miniature stockiness of a pit bull Front legs with a John Wayne, cowboy stance At first glance, you are a black and white darling, suited up in your fur coat like James Bond. As the sunlight hits your back, your coat shines chocolate brown, like a ganache glaze over a white cake As I bend down to meet you, I’m greeted by the crookedest smile A snaggletooth underbite Bottom left teeth popping out over your top lip A permanent wry smile on your face The hippie lady is right. You dash around our princess You play and bark But she shows no fear. When we drive home your tongue hangs over your snaggletooth, panting out the window. Joy radiates from your sweet face You love the car You know you’re going home. You still love the car Walks are your favorite. You jump up and down Nearly wriggle out of your skin at the thought of the freedom that awaits outside. Your sweet brown eyes are so smart Though they have now begun to pierce their way through the soft beginning glaze and frost of old age. You really have to meet Timmy