Tiny Tuxedo

My heart is a squeaky toy, and she is the squeak—

I worship her footsteps seven days a week.

I’m a floof with a mission, a croissant-shaped tail,

A tiny tuxedo in a wiggling gale.

I follow her shadow like Velcro with paws,

Guarding the toast with my crumb-seeking jaws.

When she ties her shoes—be still my zoom—

I patrol every lace like a perfume plume.

Her lap is my castle, her socks are my crown,

I rescue each slipper she dares to put down.

If the doorbell dragon dares ding-ding our lair,

I bark out a ballad to prove that I care.

She laughs, I wiggle; she sighs, I swoon;

I’m the moon to her cookie, the spoon to her spoon.

If love were a leash, I’d tangle it gladly—

Her loyal Shih Tzu, obsessed (but not badly).

So here is my oath, in boops and in snorts:

From breakfast to bedtime (and mid-snack reports),

I’ll be your fluff shadow, your chin-resting dove—

Forever your dog child, ridiculously in love.