We did it!

That's it. We did one week of poems.

To celebrate this dog blog's home.

I'm crosseyed and tired

My brain is expired

The only word I can say now is "ohm".

Dear Very Old Dog is much better!

Your help hit the nail on the letter!

And good old meclizine

Made our precious boy Beans

Return to his normal go getter!

I thank you Dear Readers for caring

And for all your good wishes sharing

Right now I must sleep

For my eyes I can't keep

... open

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Blithering Senile Idiot, Oh MY!

I think I was just a bit too ambitious;

All this poetry seems so capricious.

Our Kennel Club hosts our dog show tomorrow.

Do you have some energy that I could borrow?

I'm falling asleep between each of these lines.

I must be there by seven, dressed to the nines.

Not to show my dear dogs who love to be shown.

This idiot human forgot to enter her own.

So I'll sell raffle tickets and steward the rings,

I sold ads in the catalog for all kinds of things.

And I'll worry all day about Very Old Dog

He'll stay home with Bill and sleep like a log.

Cause today he got dizzy again and fell down

And I left the show grounds and zoomed back into town,

To sit on by his side til the drugs took effect.

I see him like that and I am quite a wreck.

But he's better tonight and he will be ok.

It just makes tomorrow a much longer day.

Enough of this blither, I must go to sleep.

I'd be ever so grateful if you would keep

A Very Old Dog in your thoughts and your prayers.

For sweetest of hearts, there's none that compares.

hug your precious hounds and sweet dreams

Fortissimo !

These nine dogs do love a good song.

If I start, they all sing along.

Lips form perfect ohses

With up-thrusted noses

And "Ah-wooos" rise up from the throng.

If a visitor comes to our house,

Saying "hush, dogs" I feel like a louse!

But shush them I must

Or eardrums would bust

And it plucks the last nerve of my spouse.

True they purely can raise a great racket!

It can sound quite like an attack! It

Is Noise at its sweetest -

Sirens could not compete, it's

Not joy or sheer volume they lack.

When you chance by our home in the city
You might hear that sound which is pretty

Of musical hounds

Whose loudness astounds

As they howl out their delightful ditty!

Hug your howlin' hounds

[Have you wondered why all the poetry? We had our 56,000th page view of this blog! We missed the 50,000th entirely, and now it's up to 58,421 anyway, so we are having a little celebration! That's all.]

Very Old Dog

From when he was a tiny scared bit
Of someone else's trash,
To now.
A great, creaky uncle so gentle with the world.

Fourteen. Fragile as the hopeful wish
Of a poor child,
At night.
Until he sees my walking shoes go on.

How extraordinarily privileged we are.
To share this soul,
Goodness.
Someone else's trash. My treasure.







hug your hounds

Time for a Walk?

Could we go for a walk, just around several blocks?
Do you s'pose that is too much to ask?
I see that you're tired and your job has you wired;
Is a walk an impossible task?

I lay here on the floor with my ears to the door
Waiting patiently for your return.
Now you're home, oh hooray! And if you'd only say
Those sweet words for which I dearly yearn.

I was good all day, though I did go astray
And surf that perfectly grand stick of butter!
I could easily see that you left it for me
Right there in the countertop clutter.

And I chewed up your shoe, cause it smelled just like you
And that made me feel close to your heart.
I must say that my tummy feels awfully rumbly-
Oops! There went one: I let a big fart!

No, don't plop in your chair! You'll get stuck sitting there,
And I'll never get my exercise.
I'll explode into bits and collapse into fits.
Wait! I know! I'll stare deep in your eyes.

See how I adore you, and now I implore you
To take me and the ball to the park.
Oh it's working: you're up, and you've put down your cup!
"Yahoo, yippee, tra la la," I bark!

I don't ask for much and isn't it really such
A most glorious wonderful day?
You are smiling now too, this is so good for you;
You're the very best human, I say!





hug your walkin' humans

Thank a Dog!

When your life is downright lousy, hug a dog.

Or if you're feeling sad and drowsy, hug a dog.

A dog'll make things better

And your face a whole lot wetter.

For happy kisses and reminisces, hug a dog.

If your walking feels so lonely, take a dog!

If your talking is baloney, tell a dog.

A dog will point out squirrels and flowers,

And listen to blah blah blah for hours!

He will nudge you, never judge you, will that dog.

If you want a glimpse of heaven, see a dog.

To hear clearly words unsaid, then be a dog.

If we'd only pay attention,

With a smidge of comprehension,

We'd learn forgiving and joy of living from a dog.

If you're needing understanding, there's your dog.

And if dinner's he's demanding, feed that dog!

Let his wagging tail amuse you

An occasional fart abuse you,

Thank stars lucky, life is ducky with your dog.

hug your poetic hounds

The Maiming of a Dirty Rotten Kitty

The Dirty Rotten Kitty won't scratch us no more.
That Dirty Rotten Kitty is humble and sore.
You heard of that surgery where they take out the scratchers?
We took care of that: we're the Kitty-Claw dispatchers!

And while we were at it we ripped off the paw
And the leg it was attached to, we're the Rotten Kitty Law!
If you look close you'll see the emasculation incision.
To bite of his tombits was an easy decision.

We tore out his innards and spread them all around.
We rolled in the mess that they made on the ground.
We grabed him up and and ran all over the yard,
You better send his family a kitty sympathy card.

We're not done yet a'shredding and a'maiming.
But before you humans get to shouting and to blaming,
Before you call the cops and get human selves all huffy:
That Dirty Rotten Kitty was a dirty rotten stuffie!









hug your stuffie maiming hounds

OK, Old Dog?

You didn't eat your breakfast.

That has never been your way.

You look so tired and troubled,

What's the matter, can you say?



Fourteen years you've been my shadow

Now you're curled up in a knot

Like the one that's in my stomach

And my breath which can't be caught.



I'm not ready for this, Old Dog,

Surely I can't be that brave.

You have always been my courage;

I can't make my heart behave.



I must be calm and comfort you.

Oh God how will I cope?

Though grateful for your life, your soul,

I cannot help but hope



That we can have still one more day,

To sit, warm in the sun.

You nestled in my guarding arms,

Time's dirty work undone.



So sleep tonight, my dear Old Dog.

I'm here, I'll hold you close.

Tomorrow you'll feel better and

We'll chase away the ghosts.







Hug your hounds

-

-

Clueless

What can I say when they just don't get it?
When I'm in front of a room full of people who have never loved a dog, or worse, have a dog tied to a tree out back and think he has a great life?
They look at me like I'm Martian, at best, or silly:
Loving a dog isn't important when people are dying in wars and famine and military coups.
Worrying about whether an old dog's pain is controlled is cliche'.
It's just so beneath them, being important and all.
What can I say?

I say that I see in that old dog's heart the answer to wars and famine and military coups.
I say that if we could learn a simple lesson of forgiveness from that dog tied to their tree, hell, Israel and Palestine would be a piece of cake.
I say that we've got no better example of unconditional love and trusting the untrustworthy, but what do I know?
I know that when people I respect behave badly, when they push and bully,
That I can go watch my dogs run for the sheer joy of it and I couldn't care less.

What do I know.

Be Still

Be still, my little dog, lie near and let me love you.
Your heart and mine, close and quiet in deep calm.
I need this time, this peace, this moment just because you
Share my very soul, you are my prayers and my psalm.

Be well, my little dog, rest easy and recover.
So tired from the struggle in your body with disease.
Sleep tight my little dog, while around you I will hover
Praying deep with all my voice: heal my little dog, oh please.

I love you, little dog, I love everything about you.
I love your quiet, and your wildness, your softness and your might.
You are a great little dog, I've never had a cause to doubt you.
Now, be still my little dog, rest quiet and sleep tight.

(c) P C Renzulli

A Dog's Christmas

My dear canine friends, I've a story for you.
I beg you to listen: what I say is all true.
Your Humans are human and can't help their behavior,
They get all confused 'bout the birth of their Savior.


See, it's that time of the year, when the humans are hopping.
"No time for our walk today, gotta go shopping.
And tomorrow we have to put up all the lights.
You understand, don't you? You'll be all right?"

No time for your Frisbee, no time to throw balls.
Got to wrap all the boxes and deck all the halls.
"I'm sorry," they say as you're back in your crate,
"Office party tonight, we won't get home til late."

So you sit in your crate for a very long time.
You're warm and you're safe and they know you'll be fine.
But you're bored and you're worried and you don't understand
Why this time of the year things get all out of hand.

As if rushing around like a nut's not enough,
They keep filling the house up with all kinds of stuff.
There's holly and candles for all to see,
Then to prove they've gone starkers THEY BRING IN A TREE!!!

Yep, fellow dogs, they bring a pine tree right in
They put glass things on the branches and plug the lights in.
You think "Hey! Indoor plumbing!" But they say, "Get away!!"
"This is Our Special Tree for Our Special Day."

And don't think for a moment those tree balls are for you.
Though they bounce on the branches and call you, they do!
You haven't been chasing your own ball for weeks,
Or played tug o' war with your toy that goes "squeak."

As their Big Day approaches, their tempers grow short.
They're tired and stressed out and all out of sorts.
They've spent way too much money, whatever that is.
On gifts, decorations, and on something called "status."

See, they're only humans, and they always forget
It's not about presents or getting in debt.
The Birthday they're celebrating is all about Love
About gifts of the Spirit, sent from up above.

And that same great Father who sent them his Son
To teach all the humans to love every one,
Sends us to remind them, my good fellow hounds:
We exemplify love with positively no bounds.

So when their Big Day is ending, their presents unwrapped,
And they've eaten their feast and settled down for a nap,
That's the time when we dogs can show by example
That it's just about love, and can give them a sample.

They will feel something’s lacking, will see something's missing.
This is the time you can teach with your kissing.
They've ignored you for weeks with their rushing around,
Still you shower them with Love - the True Love of a Hound.

Whisper quiet, Dear Dogs, "It is not about Things!"
"It's not about buying new cars or rings."
The True Gift of Christmas is Love, sweet and pure.
And at Love, none can out do a dog, that’s for sure.

copyright 2006 Patience C Renzulli, not 2206! duh.

thank goodness the dogs love me anyway.