Diva Dog

She sits at my feet
Not obediently, mind you.
No, actually she stands!

Did I already say she's at my feet?

Sorry I was distracted.

She's standing there,

Staring from below
And I know what she
Silently asks for, shaking
Shivering, slow-moving tears
Slipping from her eyes.

I tell her no and she whines

A high pitched

Little shrill of a demand.

"turn your phone on

Vibrate. You know the

Itty bitty chime sound

Terrifies the heck out of me"

Like the wind

And the click of a timer

And the sound of bread

Coming out of a bag

Or the ding of the toaster

When it's done.

I ignore the plea and

Her ears move back

Her lids grow closer together

In a depressed little squint

Directed at me.

I am the cause of her pain.

She lets it be known.

I glare at her resentfully

I bought this phone

For the sound capacity

And freedom

I'm not going to silence it

For a shaking, tiny being.

I REFUSE.

I won't turn it off.

Not yet at least.

I'll let it go off

A few more times

Just to show her

Who is boss

And then eventually

It'll go back to vibrate

Like it has been

For months.

Because of my diva dog.