The Death of the Otter

What is this thing floating in my ocean? It bobs with the wave, like a bird See the way it behaves It is not alive Is it a toy for me? Is it for play? It smells of the ocean spray It is different My head fits inside It will not come out There is no air spout Everything is going black I sink to the bottom of my ocean My dear sweet ocean There is no commotion All is quiet My fur moves with the current I give up. I am just a pup. To my watery grave I succumb