I begged for a dog until it leaped up to my head
Greeting this newborn beast,
I would say goodbye to my floors.
He jumped around the ground
From sister to brother, while,
With my mother’s assistance,
I flew about the furniture in active avoidance.
He had made the ground lava and my family was scorched,
But I dared not touch.
As I grew, he seemed to shrink.
And my fear turned to fondness.
When life began to jump, he became my floor.