Prompt: dogs.
Apart from that Weimerauner, trained to kill
who trapped me in the coat closet
when I was eight years old.
I'm sick of that old story.
How about a nice dog story,
the tall golden doodle across the hall,
who reminds me of the one, long ago,
I nearly took home,
imagining my new life with this sturdy companion.
His shelter name was lucky,
and I would have kept it.