The adventuresome life of a Great Pyrenees/Newfoundland dog in Northwestern Ontario

Posts tagged ‘Dog Poetry’

Woeful Wednesday…

Watching for Spring

Another bite of Dog Poetry: this experiment in free verse by Yours Truly, Stella the Great Newfenees and Bookshop Dog.

I love Winter.

I love the snow.

I love the cold.

I love everything about this season…

We were made for each other.

Great Newfenees Tracks

But everywhere I go now,

everywhere I turn,

I notice things are changing.

The river’s edge is softening.

Paws soak up shoreline slush.

Feels unpleasant.

Feels unsafe.

On Sunday,

it was Easter.

And Winter?

Just a whitecap

breaking on time’s strand.

Found some Spring


We Two Kings of Occident Are…

A couple of weeks ago, everyone here was celebrating Christmas. There was a lot of build-up to it among two-leggers (there always seems to be) – people decorating and putting up lights all along the big gravel path, people rushing into stores with lists of things to buy…. And this year, my blogging friend Rumpydog decided to make it more fun for us dogs, not to mention more accessible! He acted as go-between for dogs everywhere who wanted to contact the dog equivalent of St. Nick, Santa Paws!

Well, with all the furor in two-leggerdom, I decided maybe I should explore the idea of Santa Paws and the possibilities in writing to him as my pal Rumpy suggested. And Santa Paws got my letter! Not only that, but dogs everywhere added their voices to support my Christmas wish. You can go into Rumpydog’s blog and read it here if you haven’t seen it yet.

So, I had high expectations for Christmas. Last year was good, This year was going to be exceptional! I’m glad my letter didn’t get to Santa Paws any earlier, because if it had, I wouldn’t have been able to bear the suspense! (It was hard enough waiting to see if Santa Paws actually got it – I didn’t know until Rumpy told me he’d posted it on his blog, you see.)

Christmas morning. Elizabeth came out and took me for a walk. Nothing new there. She let me off my lead when we got to the big gravel path and I raced for home. Elizabeth. Took. Her. Time.

When we got in, everything seemed just as usual. No new scents. No sense of tension or excitement.

Elizabeth fixed me up a bowl of food: my usual kibble. But today she made it special by adding some chicken-ball stuff and some special gravy Kay made for me. It was reeeeally good – I pushed my dish all the way over to the food cooling box trying to get every last little morsel licked up. But it still wasn’t what I’d asked Santa Paws for.

After the two-leggers had also eaten, Elizabeth brought me my Christmas present. It isn’t that I didn’t appreciate it. I love pig ears and, since the vet told Elizabeth I’m not to have any rawhide or jerky, I haven’t had one. So this really was a special treat. And I treated it accordingly. And it was really good, too. But… it wasn’t what I’d asked Santa Paws for.

I’m afraid I moped a bit over the next few days. Elizabeth did her best to cheer me up. She explained to me that there are twelve days of Christmas. There’s even a song about it. I’m sure you know it; Elizabeth says it’s very famous:

On the fifth day of Christmas my two-legger gave me,
Five brocc’li stalks,
Bow wow bow wow wow,
Bow wow wow,
Bow wow bow wow wow,
And a Berryz cookie after my meal!

You know the one I mean.

She said that even the baby Jesus had to wait for his gifts from the Three Kings of Orient until Epiphany, which, she counted out for me, was the sixth of January, a.k.a. the Twelfth Day of Christmas.

That was Sunday.

I was lying on my Elizabeth’s bed while she worked on a project at her desk when I heard the rumble of a big growly beast outside. It was loud enough that I don’t think Elizabeth really needed me to tell her it was out there. We both ran to the door…

It was AL! And there, in the front seat of Al’s big red growly beast, was my dearest dog pal in all the world, Bud! Bud had come to see me for Christmas, all the way from Winnipeg, many, many dog miles away (I know ’cause I’ve been there). It’s a long trip for him ’cause he’s getting old, and sometimes he has trouble just getting into the growly beast for the ride now.

Al came to the door carrying a big heavy bag. If he’d had a beard, he would’ve looked just like St. Nick, I think. And in that big bag… Bud had brought me a Christmas present, too! More treats as well – I think they came from Joanne. I love my treats, and Joanne always has such yummy ones to share….

Even on Paper, Bud lights up my life...

Even on Paper, Bud lights up my life…

Getting down to business

Getting down to business

I'm trying hard to be tidy about this, but whatever is in there just isn't coming out!

I’m trying hard to be tidy about this, but whatever is in there just isn’t coming out!

The Aftermath of my exuberance!

The Aftermath of my exuberance!

And here’s what was inside:

Can I open this up, too? Please?

Can I open this up, too? Please?

Here's Bud's gift: A friend to remember him by. I'm calling him Justin (why is everybody laughing?) because he arrived just in time to make my Christmas. Thank you, Bud! You're the BEST!

Here’s Bud’s gift: A friend to remember him by. I’m calling him Justin because he arrived just in time to make my Christmas.
Thank you, Bud! You’re the BEST!

Thank you so much, Santa Paws. I knew in my heart I couldn’t have a full time dog-friend here. You did the next best thing by bringing Bud to visit and letting me know that he was still well and thinking about me, too. Thank you, Rumpy, for helping me get my message to Santa Paws and for instigating the Mutt ‘n Howl Telegraph. Christmas is wonderful!

Brief Bite of Dog Poetry

Colorado Low, Colorado Low,
It’s raining out now –
NO… Ohhhh,
It’s beginning to SNOW!


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