Book I, Epigram 109 (Ker)

Issa is naughtier than Catullus' sparrow; Issa is more pure than kiss of dove; Issa is more coaxing than any maid; Issa is more precious than Indian pearls; Issa is Publius' darling lap-dog. If she whines you think she is speaking; she feels sadness and joy. Resting on his neck she lies and takes her sleep so softly that her breathings are not heard; and when o'ercome by nature's longing never did she by a single drop betray the coverlet, but with wheedling paw she rouses you, warns you to put her down from the bed, and asks to be lifted. So great is the modesty of this chaste lap-dog that she knows not of love, nor can we find a mate worthy of a maid so tender. That death should not rob him of her altogether, Publius portrays her in a picture, wherein you will see an Issa so like that not even the dog herself is so like herself. In fine, set Issa alongside her picture; you will think either that each is genuine, or you will think that each is painted.