Bear

She says I am a bear today - hairs bristle, paws twitch. I could be a good bear, but apparently I’m unbearable. I used to be loved by park rangers and children. I danced in the circus, I composed love-poetry for pandas, but today the mask is slipping. I tell her: I am a walrus, look at my moon-cow eyes - only a walrus can gawk like that, but she’s just not buying the whole walrus thing. Later like a good bear I hold out my dish as she says: dinner is ready.