Little Bark
By Patricia Shillingburg © 2007

Chi Yazzie, “little bark” in Navajo,
is a Shih Tzu of Chinese descent.
He is a pug faced little white ball of fur
with butterscotch markings.
When he curls up in a fry pan sized ball
He seems so very, very small.
But when he stretches out
on the counterpane,
with chin on front paws,
from nose to tip of tail
he is a yard long.
Chi Yazzie thrives on consistency,
a schedule he can count on day to day.
Each morning, he fetches the paper,
does his morning eliminations,
eats breakfast with his man,
a meal ready-to-eat, and
shares a bagel or a bun.
After shaking his squeaker squirrel
as if to break its neck,
he settles down across his woman’s
girth, tummy to tummy,
for a morning snooze.
Lunch means another walk,
whining for a crumb,
usually with no reward.
Afternoons are spent on his own chair
in his man’s office,
where he works with a gentle snore.
Dinner also means a walk,
with another meal ready-to-eat
and many games of fetch,
with his Tasmanian ball.
Then, spread out between his woman’s hip
and the wing chair’s arm,
he snoozes in front of a blazing fire.
Later he watches TV’s mayhem,
but if bored, he takes himself to bed.
Then he must be roused for one final walk.
Sounds easy, true – a dog’s life.
But, all is not at peace in Chi Yazzie’s world.
There are disturbances throughout his day:
The UPS man, the Fedex man,
The cleaner’s delivery man, a meter reader,
rabbit, squirrel, or deer.
All give truth to his name,
but there is nothing little about his bark.
He leaps up and down at the door
and appears ready to tear the fellow’s limbs
from offending torso.
None of these offer the worst affront.
His property extends to a box on wheels
which he will defend to his death.
He snarls and growls, and barks like a mad dog
Throwing his body against the window
when a stranger passes by.
But no offense. If the stranger dares,
He will lick the offered hand with glee.