My Former Dog

My former dog reproached me in a dream. She was named Katrina, a spayed dachshund with a fat tummy. I had wanted a beagle and my parents told me a dachshund was a beagle with shorter legs. She walked with a wobble and embarrassed me in public. You completely underestimated me, she said in the dream. She was right. I once taught her three tricks in one day—sit, roll over, and play dead—and then lost interest. Why didn’t you say you could talk? I wanted to know. That’s so you, she said. You never asked me, did you?


Paul Strohm grew up in Western Springs, Illinois. He has taught medieval literature at Oxford and Columbia. He now divides his time between Oxford and Brooklyn, and writes freelance.

Photo credit: Calsidyrose

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