Photography © Bonnie Matthews Brock


The Dogs of Quarantine

At least the dogs are happy.
Suddenly, every day is Sunday.
A parade passes by the house every hour.
Boxers and labradoodles and yorkies cruise along.
There’s the always nervous akita, skittering by, barking at cars.
There’s a black mutt, coat like a crow’s feather.
There’s a burly pit bull, who straddles the asphalt as he walks.
There’s the German shepherd dog, slinking by, low to the ground.
Long lonely in the corner house, he seems dazed by all the attention.
There’s the friendly shiba inu, pretending to be well-behaved,
heeling with style, but she jerks the leash if something catches her eye.
She lies down in the road in mock protest if her master corrects her.
She is disinterested in cars, but loves skateboards,
assuming they all function as her race partners.
Suddenly, every day is Sunday for the dogs.
Caala, as usual, cannot contain herself and wants to jump on everyone she sees.
Trinity just took her first extended tour of the neighborhood.
Tipper, unaccustomed to so much freedom, ran off and is now missing
and his mistress, whose name is Billie, cycles the lanes of the neighborhood, calling his name,
her helmet shiny and new. (He’s a tan mutt, forty-five pounds. Keep an eye out.)
Now every day is Sunday for the dogs.
Ball-throwing, belly-rubbing, grass-sniffing without end.
With all the walking, Coffee, the Australian shepherd,
no longer gets up early, rendering his name meaningless.
Adlai, the black lab, does yoga with his mistress every morning.
Jude, a dalmatian mix, is in danger of spraining his tail.
Jake, the whippet, is finally tired out.
Those defensive, arrogant standard poodles now walk by the lake every day,
strolling by without looking up, gentled by the outdoors,
because all the days are Sundays now.
And there are brief brilliant moments, as the dogs chase and cavort,
amaranthine and immediate in their animal joys,
when it is Sunday for us, too.


Adrienne Pilon is a teacher and writer. Her work has been published in Blanket Sea Journal, The Furious Gazelle, Full Grown People, and elsewhere. She lives in North Carolina with her family.

Bonnie Matthews Brock is a Florida-based photographer, as well as a school psychologist. Her images have been published in Ibbetson Street Press, The Somerville Times, and Oddball Magazine.