haibun

| Current Issue | About CHO | Editorial Staff & Guidelines | Submissions | Articles | Archives | Search |
July 2018, vol 14 no 2

| Contents This Issue | Next |


Joan Prefontaine

A Certain Look

My dog keeps himself busy trying to prove that he is not a person. I often treat him as a person, it is true, and yes, he has his own special chair and food dishes, even a cookie jar that I bribe him with – the same cookie jar, in fact, that I used to bribe my son with when he was young. But my dog keeps reminding me that comparisons are odious, and that he, unlike a human child, seeks to perfume himself with fish scales or fresh horse manure whenever we are out together. He snacks from the cats’ litter box when I have my back turned, and while generally well-mannered, will occasionally bark for half an hour in the middle of the night at a faint sound only he can hear. He often gives me a disdainful look, as if to say, “See? I am my own dog, and not even related to you!” I realize it is nearly the same look my son gave me when he left the house to go on his first date.

childhood lake
my dog swims
without being taught


logo