Estrus

Dad complained that Bob Young
wouldn’t put his dog up
when she was in heat

and that’s why my dog Jack
would go seasonally nuts
trying to get down to Bob’s place

and why, on one occasion,
Jack got into an awful, ripping fight
with a pair of competitive suitors

and I ran down to Bob Young’s
to find Jack mostly dead and
hemorrhaging and unconscious

and Mother and I wrapped him up
to make a frantic run to the vet’s
and had him stitched and injected,

splinted and heavily bandaged
and drove him back home
only to hear him let out a

WHOOP and raise his head
and perk his ears when
the scent of heat wafted

into his nostrils and
he bounded out of the car
through a half-open window

and limped down the road
at full tilt trailing bloody
gauze and saliva