Doberman Pinschers were the dogs chained to a pole in a back yard
somewhere in my blue collar neighborhood, lunging, teeth bared,
I was terrified the chain would break as I walked by, envisioning
my leg dangling from its mouth as I tried to crawl away.
Izzy was more intent on a chipmunk than me, not even seeming
to mind the rather undignified pink leash and striped saddle bags.
She reminded me of someone I used to see all the time; she wore
high heels to seem taller, not recognizing that height has nothing to
do with it just as Izzy knows she is tough no matter the pink and stripes.
that chipmunk that approached within a nose of Izzy just didn't
recognize her power even though we did, we would have rushed
away just as I did from that Doberman when I was a child,
recognizing power when I saw it.
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