Nate Knows Nada

“Dixie The Tiny Dog” by Peter Himmelman

I’m a tiny dog named Dixie
I have small feet which pitter patter on the linoleum floor, you can hear my toenails in the middle of the night
My tag says I belong to the Johnsons, but they don’t own me, they just feed me, they just bought me one day
No one owns me, I’m Dixie the tiny dog
And in the middle of the day I sit in the sun and I hear young children call me a weiner dog, perhaps that’s what I am
The Germanic term is dachshund, and I like that
I’m thin and I’m proud and no one can make fun of me
I can slip through the bars of a prison if I were ever incarcerated, but I don’t know what I would do wrong
My body yields no evil inclination, I’m a pure weiner dog
My name is Dixie, and I go dancing ‘cross the floor in the evening of the Johnsons when everyone is sleeping
Sometimes I look for a morsel of food, but they’re so clean they’re almost anal-retentive in their cleanliness habits and there’s nothing for me
But I don’t despair
Because I know tomorrow my Gaines Burgers will be there, and they will unwrap the plastic from them and then feed me this succulent dish, and I will eat
And oh, I’ve watched the German Shepherds with their long necks, their graceful necks, dipping into the toilet to drink whenever they want to have a drink of cool water in that well
But I must plead, I must beg, I must whine for Mr. Johnson to put out my bowl, or one of the Johnson boys to refill it after I drink it, because I’m Dixie the dog and I like water
And in the middle of the night you can see me dancing a small Fred Astaire tap dance, with my little toenails
They go click click click against the linoleum, and I run down the hall and I slide
And the back of my goes in front of me…slowly
I’m long and I’m thin, I’m Dixie the tiny dog and I like it.