PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

1

Our long-haired Chihuahua, Taco, ran away
on the very day Perpetual Pets
(subsidiary of Perpetual Companionship) announced
the recall of several breeds---including
Chihhuahuas---due to software failures.
(Cyborgs---that is such an ugly word---
they are, and Perpetual Companionship
has made a fortune with them for its stockholders).
My daugher, Lelia, reacted to Taco's absence
with deep sorrow, followed immediately by anger---
rage, really---directed entirely toward me.
Lelia is a very beautiful adolescent girl.
Our friends believe she ought to be a fashion model.
"Yes," they say, "that is really model material, that girl,
"such singular beauty." Lelia has
recently changed her style of clothing: she prefers, now,
tank tops, denim mini-skirts, and tights.
Shoes, however, are objects of disgust
to her: she rarely wears them. Already,
I am going broke replacing the tights she has
worn out on the pavement on the way to and
from school this year. But she insists, always, on this.
As soon as we knew Taco had disappeared
(and after a thorough search of the house and grounds),
Lelia took me by the throat, and the look
in her eyes was deadly. "You had better find my dog,"
she whispered, almost a hiss, as she throttled me.

2

I telephoned Perpetual Pets' Call
Center to report Taco missing. Those
people speak like robots, and their script
allows no change for ordinary conversation.
They repeat everything you say as if they are stupid.
(Call Centers are the bane of business
in our society---you mark my words.)
The deluxe warranty I purchased with
Taco was activated by her
reported disappearance. Our nations'
satellite system began to search for her.
Once her coordinates were established,
retrieval software was beamed to her
from the lab, through the satellites. Obedient
and compliant, she returned to the premises
of Perpetual Pets to be corrected and repaired.

3

After Taco's return, we expected---hoped---
our lives would resume normally, quietly.
Summer has come to New England and, with it,
boys have come around to befriend Lelia.
She had not been the prettiest girl in
our neighborhood, nor the most popular,
but this spring and summer, after her
sophomore year in high school, she has blossomed.
And the boys come like bees to partake of the sweetness
they expect there. This is Saturday.
My daughter is playing lawn croquet with
several boys. Denim mini-skirt, yellow tank top,
and yellow opaque tights (she says they are hot;
but I doubt she means the temperature).
The soles of those tights on her are grass-stained green.
Taco enjoys the attention almost
as much as Lelia. The boys' excitement
shows no signs of abating. They plan to play
with her until dusk; then on to other games?
An e-mail has just arrived from Perpetual
Family (another subsidiary of
Perpetual Companionship). They have
discovered a malfunction in the software
that operates the models in the Young Folks line.
Lelia, one of the Young Folks, must be corrected.
(My wife and I have suspected something amiss
in her behavior---the disrespect toward me,
when Taco disappeared, the mounting interest
in boys instead of total devotion to her parents.)
We will have to find a way to get her there.
These recalls are becoming repetitious,
and repetition can be expensive,
adversely impacting the balance sheet's bottom line.
Too much more of this, and I will have to dump
my considerable holding of the Perpetual stock.
I will phone that Call Center on Monday,
first thing in the morning, and insist that they
pay to have Lelia shipped to them and back.

Starward