Satellite of Love

My dog likes to lick the dew off the grass
He's our little satellite of love
We send him out as an emissary for affection

He's a little Maltese, and everyone knows him
Even though they don't know us

We adults cannot ask to be swaddled and coddled
Not without an adult diaper
And an understanding escort service

I suppose we give that to each other
But we want it from them too, from everyone
So the little dog jogs about collecting love for us
Like a fuzzy bee gathering pollen

It makes me wonder about those that get
A patently unadorable pet
They foist their smelly mean-spirited animal on strangers
Sullenly insisting on having them unwillingly handled
And extracting dispirited transparent compliments

Our pup is a decoy that works every time
Like a tow-headed moppet in superhero pajamas
The old bait and switch.