object

Dachshund

The Dachshund knick-knack

appears too long for reality,

brown painted fur, stretched out

on a patch of ceramic grass.

I bought it at a yard sale

my neighbor’s family held

after she passed to the next life.

I’ll miss her round figure,

black frizzy hair, brown eyes,

bustling about, in motherly voice

calling after her “babies.”

I remember the time

her house about burned down

while she tried to save them.

And the time I got up on my roof

to paint the gables purple,

but I was afraid to come down

with no one holding the ladder.

She was in her yard,

so I had her call my daughter,

who came out laughing.

And the time she baked us brownies

in appreciation for cutting down trees

that blocked the sunlight to her house.

I don’t know what happened

to the real little yippers,

but the knick-knack

will always remind me of her.