Fierce

Fierce, in May, at about 10 weeks old.

We have a gigantic puppy named Fierce,

Who is the source of all distress and dismay.

A tiny, white fuzz when we rescued him

From oblivion by the side of the road,

Now he’s a humongous, sharp-toothed terror,

Not all that bright, but full of joy and energy.

His name I say too many times a day,

Because he is the cause of so much frustration:

There’s toilet paper chewed and strung all over,

Because Fierce.

The trashcan in the kitchen overturned,

Because Fierce.

The cat has run away,

Because Fierce.

My phone no longer has a case,

Because Fierce.

I am all wet,

Because Fierce.

There’s pee and poop all over the house,

Because Fierce.

The dishes in the kitchen are not safe,

Because Fierce.

I have not a single pair of pristine shoes,

Because Fierce.

The cord to the space heater split in two,

Because Fierce.

There’s trash in the backyard,

Because Fierce.

There’s not a moment of peace,

Because Fierce.

I dread going home,

Because Fierce.

And yet, when my wife comes home from work,
Her eyes light up and pains of work dissolve,

She’s happy again, and she will know joy,

Not because of me, her loving husband,

Or anything thing that I have done,

But because Fierce.

Fierce now.