Writing the Apocalypse is a weekly series featuring the poems, essays, and recollections of Puma Perl, with subject matter influenced by her experiences as a NYC resident during the COVID-19 pandemic.

Diva Dog Gomez, circa 2007-2021 | BY PUMA PERL

Diva Dog Gomez had a rough start in life. At approximately three years old, she was abandoned to a kill shelter when her owners moved to housing that did not accept dogs. Juliet Sasha Gomez spotted her on a visit to the shelter. Diva was traumatized, shaking, face against the wall. No other potential adopters had shown interest in her. Juliet coaxed her out of her corner with treats. That was the start of Diva’s forever family.

Unsurprisingly, Diva had major separation anxiety and would cry for hours, claw at the door, and destroy furniture. It was suggested that crating might help but Diva not only found a way to tear down her crate, while she was at it she figured out how to unlock the window and jump down into the yard. Her skills as an escape artist would come in handy.

Eventually, Diva began to settle in, and became amenable to being left in a small second bedroom when nobody was home. It was in the ceiling of this bedroom that an electrical fire started and destroyed their apartment and the one upstairs. Fortunately, Diva used her skills to break out of the room and wait by the front door for the firefighters. The following period of instability was a setback, but when Juliet and Diva were rehoused several blocks away from this writer everything began to improve.

It worked out perfectly for me to co-parent Diva since Juliet and I had different schedules and, the less she was alone, the more secure she was that one of her people would soon appear. This last pandemic year was like a dream come true for her. Juliet worked from home and I was pretty much available day or night. Diva and I always spent a lot of time in neighborhood parks and she also loved going on field trips to Central Park and Coney Island.

Over the years, Diva has acquired a large number of real life and virtual friends whose days have been brightened by her smiles. She had one of the best smiles I’ve ever seen. She was also that rare dog who laughed at her human companions and muttered curses under her breath when a loud noise woke her from a nap. She never wanted dog friends, although the older she got the less interested she was in conflict. Diva liked most humans and adored her primary parent, Juliet, her second Mommy, Puma, and her Uncle Louie. She was always clear in her needs and desires and communicated in ways that left no doubt when it was her time to go.

She passed peacefully surrounded by those who shared her love. Her smiles and soulful eyes live on in memory.

When Diva Was Still Here I Hoped to Die Before the Dog | BY PUMA PERL

We leave soft jazz playing

She used to prefer the Velvet Underground

“Run Run Run,” also Joan Jett’s cover

of “I Love Rock and Roll”

especially the line

Put another dime in the jukebox baby

Now it’s this CD Lite crap

she finds soothing

 

She crawls under the corner table

and waits for someone to come home

Occasionally she tears up a paper bag

or tosses shoes around the room

 

She wears a pink coat during the winter

and shivers dramatically if it’s under 40

She pretends to pee and surreptitiously

searches for crap to eat and gets sick

Then I take pictures of her shit and send

them to my daughter to analyze and we

feed her rice and chicken instead of kibbles

 

When she takes healthy shits we’re happy

They look like small cigars and roses

I don’t take pictures of the good ones

A month without a visit to the vet

is a good one, but usually the car

breaks down or I lose my wallet

just to keep everything Even Steven

 

I had hoped to die before the dog

But it isn’t looking likely

She smiles most widely in the morning,

rarely bothers to bark at other dogs,

and asks to be lifted onto the bed

 

She may be the last dog

and I’ll most likely be alive

when she leaves, looking

at her pink harness and collar,

the green Kong toys she

doesn’t play with anymore,

the soft leopard bed,

the mat she stole from me,

and the water and food bowls

with her name written on the sides

 

A simple group of possessions

Some toys, a bed, a mat,

and three people are all she has

and she’s pretty happy

almost all of the time.

 

© puma perl, 04/25/20

 

Puma Perl is a poet and writer, with five solo collections in print. The most recent is Birthdays Before and After (Beyond Baroque Books, 2019.) She is the producer/creator of Puma’s Pandemonium, which brings spoken word together with rock and roll, and she performs regularly with her band Puma Perl and Friends. She’s received three New York Press Association awards in recognition of her journalism, and is the recipient of the 2016 Acker Award in the category of writing. Her most recent books can be found by clicking here.

 

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