My kid throws the ball.
I fetch it back, of course,
and drop it, wet and slobbery,
cause I'm a good boy.

The stranger brings more white rectangles--
STRANGER! DANGER! STRANGER! DANGER!
I bark to scare that stranger away,
cause I'm a good boy.

I curl up on the bed at night
sleeping, but alert to any danger,
warming, calming, with my kid,
cause I'm a good boy.

The kid's forever asking,
"Who's a good boy?"
I lick the kid's face—I'm the only one,
cause I'm a good boy.