De'an

Dogs so long with us we forget

that wolves allowed as how

they might be tamed and sprang up

all over the globe, with all humans,

all at once, like a good idea.

So we tamed our own hearts.

Leashed them or sent them to camp’s edge.

Even the shrinks once agreed, in dreams

our dogs are our deepest selves.

Ur Dog, a Siberian, dogged

the heels of nomads,

then turned south to Egypt

to keep Pharaoh safe.

Seemed strange, my mother sighed,

when finally we got a hound,

. . . a house without a dog.

Her world never knew

a yard un-dogged and thus

unlocked. Sudden intrusions

impossible where yappers yap.

Or maybe she objected

to empty armchairs,

rooms too quiet

without the beat

of tail thump or paw thud.

N’de, Ojibwe say, my pet,

which also suggests ode, that spot in the chest,

the part you point to when you pray,

or say with great feeling—great meaning,

meaning dog-love goes that deep.

Source: National Monuments (Michigan State University Press, 2008)