“when can we play again?”

the retriever, seen last with fluffy orange-brown fur

and tail which seemed in constant wag, was

named Oblitus, in honor of their reliability and notability

and out of respect for their flawless memory.

the rabbit, seen last with fluffy white and sopping wet dark red fur

and tail which seemed in random twitch, was

nameless, in honor of the life in their eyes and uniqueness

and out of respect for the success in their escape.

…

Oblitus and Nameless would, no doubt, describe the other a friend,

electing daily to play this lovely game of tag:

each day, the hare would win the game, and hide

in the bush to await the next round.

Nameless was once seen venturing too close to the house,

nobody knows why, and burrowed themselves into the ground

to the sounds of overlapping joyful and playful chirps,

likely to coax Oblitus to dig and uncover the source to win the game.

Oblitus took up this challenge with glee and wagging tail,

staining paw and leg and belly and muzzle black with soil,

sniffing and digging, sensing the distance lessening

until…yes! They emerged from the hole, a first-time victor!

Nameless rewarded Oblitus with a savory juice

for this incredible feat, beating their legs in prideful applause

and periodically jolting between Oblitus’ teeth

as if to say “well done”, unable to contain their joy.

the victory lap was fun, as the hare became relaxed,

as the retriever became excited to play again tomorrow,

but afterward, both had decided the game was over for today,

and parted ways until they would chase later.

…

the retriever couldn’t find the rabbit the next days.

the retriever couldn’t find the rabbit the next weeks.

the retriever couldn’t find the rabbit the next months.

the retriever wished they had never won the game.