Popi
By Yuri Nakasato
Popi Nakasato the Third
El perrito mordelón (the biting little dog)
You were beloved,
and one of a pair of Misqa’s childhood dogs
That Sunrise day in 2011 when we spot both of you as inseparable puppies
Then playing at the West Acres Mall pet shop we knew so different colors and opposite characters
Are your really brothers?
The pet shop clerk said that we could only take the White one sorry, the Black puppy was reserved for Someone else so we patiently waited and waited and waited
until later
until Sunset
until that Someone else did never show up
and that was how Popi came home with Bundle
Loyal, caregiver, responsible
endlessly nuzzling
not to the hand that feeds you
rather, to the one who pets you
on the head, behind the ears and chin
Yes, you are adorable, my dear,
I love you too
You loved Famous Dave’s ribs
and for not being a cat,
you would clean a can of tuna in seconds
You took care of Bundle
always beside him like a sucking Fish
Like a Mother
Until that tragic day,
that we suddenly lost Bundle
too much suffering
You would misbehave then,
and rightfully so,
to the breaking point
Misunderstood though, but forgiven many a time
Out there, they did not get you
from being welcomed with treats,
to being banned from every single groomer in the Fargo-Moorhead area
Yet nothing would keep us apart
for you were a part of the Family
Placid calm as the Red river
steady like the Pacific Ocean,
gentle and always willing to protect,
as long as it is
one human being at a time
You taught us the meaning of unconditional love how to live
how to endure
how to have patience
how to leave this life when the time is right
at the setting of the Sun
And most importantly,
you taught us,
how to be a Caregiver
Your presence is felt beyond comprehension
under the bed, under the table, by the chair,
under the empty space
that you have left
We remember you, Popi
dancing the tippy tapping on the hard floor
wagging your tail hard against the wood doors
any wood furniture would do it
with rhythm
As if playing the Afro-Peruvian Cajón (percussion box)
Sneaking on the bed with those Tiger leaps
Chismoso (gossiper)
scanning like a Fox, while resting your chin on the cold floor peering at us with those humbling eyes,
those disarming humane brown eyes
perhaps wondering: “where have you been?”
“An hour for you is four hours for me!”
With your furry black color
contrasted by a white elegant strip on your chest
Have you ever seen a dog dressed in a tuxedo and necktie?
That elegance that showed in your prancing and confident walk as if you were deep into the bones a pure-blooded Peruvian step horse
You were educated too, bilingual, like us
You would bark GUAU rather than WOOF.
To the best companion in the World
The best service dog that never was
You have done your duty on Earth
With all your might
You have lived what you could
It is time to close the cycle
Rest now, perrito
Sleep with the moon and the stars
And reach the elusive Aurora borealis
Please take care of your brother Bundle,
we see him once in a while in a passing cumulus cloud chasing as usual, well, God knows what
up there, you are not a Black sheep
but his Shepherd
We love you forever and will never forget you
