I get a kick out of the way she races up and down the hallway each morning,
running away from no one
and in pursuit of nothing.
She can be so loud and bold with strangers,
but freaks out and hides under the bed
if a plastic bottle falls out of the recycling bin.
She murmurs contentedly in her sleep,
shakes with delight at the sight of a new bone,
digs holes in a playful fury,
inhales her food each evening,
and immediately subdues herself and gently rolls over
if a belly pat is imminent.
She's my "Dog Girl," Miss Mazie.