For breakfast Izzy and I share
a can of fish and two
spoons of buttered popcorn –
we open the Amazon box together
she watches while I put away the order;
we study cat videos on the computer
Izzy likes that; for exercise
we stomp into the garden, Izzy hisses the ducks
away – it’s just the two of us now,
me and the cat; when we drive to town we wear
matching masks – Izzy doesn’t need one but pretends.
I buy bottles of water at the store – Izzy
gets thirsty these days, no rain, big drought;
I get thirsty too. We
go home listening to the radio
playing bird songs –
Izzy rides shotgun.