Briefly, he panted,
Seventy pounds of muscle
Soaking in the sun
One moment, tongue dangling,
The next…curled up in a ball
Winds blowing with force
A pit bull’s ears hanging low
Too cold for walking
Clashing air masses,
Booming sounds leading to tapping paws,
A pit bull’s nails on hardwood
At two in the morning.
The standard tricks not working,
A blanket for security,
An arm to stop the shaking,
Until the technology did more than memes
When YouTubes’s background noise relaxed shaking muscles.
Who knew Tibetan bowl music would have such an effect?
Eventually, the storm moved along,
The bells and bowls kept chiming,
Dog and dad kept snoring, and
The leaves barely clinged to the branches.
Shallow are trash cans
When dogs and meat are involved.
Who need a lesson,
The adults or the pit bull?
Messes follow convenience.
Hanging on Scotland
Empty streets, coffee smells
Seeing old haunts with new eyes
“Remember to play after every storm.” Mattie Stepanek
My dog’s way provides refuge
From the ridiculous interpretations
Of the idea that we are free to say
Whatever we want.
Once again, I dealt with public criticism,
The kind that is not based in constructivism,
But more of the mean girl kind
That has both bite and bitch in it.
I’m confused as to why there is an attack
Coming at me twice a week
At the same time each morning,
But my dog gives me the peaceful respite that keeps me strong.
I know that at the end of the day
I’ll come home to a wagging tail and expression
Coming from his heart and warming mine.
“Young man, a tongue does not give you the right to say all you think.”
I’ve learned in “olding” age to let things go,
To check my list of those who matter,
To play nice with others.
“Young man, maybe someday you will learn.”
After living the life in a habitat without consequences,
Coming home to an unconditional and abundant love
Makes me wonder why dogs are so much nicer than people.
I can’t wait to get home tomorrow.