Child Painting a Dog
She is not painting the dog.
When asked what she is painting,
she sings the dog’s name. The dog wiggles
on the dog bed in the sunlight of the kitchen.
She is painting a picture of the dog.
She has not looked at the dog all day.
Sitting across from her in the sunlight of the kitchen,
her uncle winces at the singing.
He has not looked at her all day.
What does the sung disyllable mean?
her uncle thinks, wincing at the singing.
Some distant dog cousin of good girl, hello?
What does the sung disyllable mean?
You, or, rather, I belong?
Some distant dog cousin of good girl, hello?
He frowns in distraction.
You, or, rather, I belong?
A dog, he thinks, does not baffle itself.
He frowns in concentration
at the spreading of his carefully selected water colors.
He thinks a dog does not baffle itself.
He tries to baffle the flow.
From the spread of carefully selected water colors,
his niece is using an awful lot of brown.
He tries to baffle the flow.
Is it his place to correct her?
The dog is not merely brown.
He concentrates on mark-making.
This is not his place.
She claims the painting is a present for Grandma.
He concentrates on mark-making.
“Grandma will bring us raisins,” she says.
She has been trained to present her paintings to Grandma
who will hang the pictures on the fridge.
“Everything happens for a raisin,” she says.
This is a joke they share.
Grandma hangs their pictures on the fridge
while they eat raisins.
This is a joke they share.
She finds it funny to imagine,
while they eat raisins,
a very important raisin.
He was trying to find it funny
the night he first uttered this.
His face weathered like a very important raisin
with a wry grin only a child could paint
on the night he first uttered this.
It all seemed like so much shibboleth,
a wry grin only a child could paint on.
He didn’t know the dog had cancer.
It is all so much shibboleth.
They didn’t know the signs.
The dog does not know the dog has cancer.
A blob for a torso, blob for a head, two blobs for ears.
They did not know the signs of dog cancer
in the squint of the dog.
A blob for a torso, blob for a head, two blobs for ears:
it is possible that she has been painting a picture of the dog.
In the squint of the dog
he has lately squinted back.
It is possible that she has been painting a picture of the dog
approximating the cartoon dogs
he has lately squinted at.
He hopes she does not learn the signs.
Approximating the cartoon dogs they have been watching,
he no longer knows what is selfish.
He hopes she does not learn of signs.
He thought that distress would pass.
He no longer knows what is selfish.
She turns and wiggles her tooth.
Did he believe he could pass through distress
by knowing he could not paint this dog?
***
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Photo by Andrea Arden/Flickr