Puppy Love

By Jeffrey A. Paolano

“Len’s an angel. Everyone says so,” avers his mother.

“Yes, dear,” I, as father, say in adoration.

“At this age we should allow Len a puppy,” declares my wife, apropos of nothing.

My neighbor Dan knows dogs, so I ask him, “What’s the best breed for a boy?”

Dan pronounces, “A mutt, from the Humane Society.”

“I want this one here,” declares our boy, face awash in puppy slather. “I’ll name him Buckwheat.”

While we’re jogging, Buckwheat is crushed beneath bus wheels.

Atremble, tearfully laden in guilt, I awaken our precious. “Honey, wake up, honey, there’s something I must tell you…”