Growth

My dog, Horus,

smiling, sweet, simple,

the face of love,

with ENORMOUS brown eyes

meeting mine,

arresting my attention.

He steps closer to me,

presses his wet black nose against me,

shoves his tiger-striped head

under my hand,

and I obey his silent command,

scratching his velvet ears,

rubbing my fingers

across his crown,

and he has a wart there now,

right in the middle of his forehead.

I don’t know if it bothers him at all,

but it drives me nuts.

This little white bump,

a tiny boulder in the smooth field of soft fur.

I can’t tell you when it first popped up,

but it’s gotten a little bigger

in the past couple of weeks.

We could have it removed,

but it’s purely a cosmetic concern.

So he’s growing a horn,

my rare, mystical unicorn hound.