SMALL DOGS AND BIG MEN
He had a whining tone in his voice,
the biker in his colors and boots
complaining to the receptionist
at a California motel
about a small dog’s nonstop yipping
behind the room door opposite his.
It could not be a dog, she told him,
a note of certainty in her voice.
No dogs are allowed in this motel.
I saw a tiny dog on a leash
run at a man and bite at his leg,
the miniature canine teeth not
penetrating the heavy denim.
She coldly said, My dog does not bite.
He clearly saw his difficulty:
a very big man being attacked
by a dog the size of a hamster.
The grown daughter with an old father
whose drinking problem often stranded
him at unfamiliar places
found a solution in a cell phone
with a geolocation device,
of which he remained unaware and
was always surprised by how she just
by chance happened to bump into him