in loving memory of my small panda baby shisho,
The Mind of a Dinosaur
“Come here fat boy”. I’d call him as his tiny rock like feet scratched the wooden floor like an old man crunching peanut brittle with his mouth wide open so that the walls could here him munch. As he came, his face all dirty with dark eyes that mistook you for a chicken bone. Like a ball of matted yarn that someone rolled under a couch one day and never bothered to pick it up, though the dust bunnies seemed to like it. His fur sweeped the ground and piled up the dust in the house with all his excitement in every strand. We always called him, bunny, horse, cat and dog. But never just dog.
He was little, almost like a baby always wanting attention. Look away for a while, he would ignore you. Keep looking and he would bite you. That’s just the way he was. Even as a pup he would run into the screen doors like slamming bugs trying to get in through the holes of the screen while the rain falls hitting the floor like light taps of an old finger. Only his hit was more of a loud thunderstorm rather then a bug itself. Out of nowhere he’d sneeze, and sneeze and sneeze like a laughing hyena almost never stopping.
We’d drag him across the floor like an old broom, color faded, dirty, smelly, and old. But he enjoyed it, living his whole life like the king of all pigs. Furry pigs too. “The mind of a dinosaur” I’d tell him, as his ears flopped to one side while the dust flies around the air like plankton under the deep sea of the ocean blue. Back and fourth it would sway, and on his dirty face, a smile. That old dog’s name “Shisho” or “panda baby”, so I thought it was a good name. But as he grew we should have called him Dino, short for dinosaur. Always running into things and biting objects that seemed to stare back at him with a glare. He was never really fat, just the fluff made him look like a big white dirty pillow that wondered through the house waiting for entertainment from strangers. Strangers, yes he loved them. He still waits at the door for someone to come in, anyone, who’d walk in so he could sweep his broom, smile, and scratch the floor.
heart ~In loving memory~ heart
you were a great good hearted friend and i love you so very much...when i see you again...promise that you'll wait for me ok? heart
