Not my Dog

“Cats rule, dogs drool.” Ain’t that the truth! 
Gobs of slobber hanging at the ready so that
with a mere shake of the head they become blobby
missiles of slime slinging through the air
to attach to the nearest person or food or furniture.

But not my dog.
Oh there may be the occasional teeny tiny droplet
of saliva as he sits patiently waiting for a treat
but a simple dab of the floor cleans it right up and for
anything more problematic he uses the handkerchief
he always carries in his pocket.

Cats sneeze, dogs have fleas
and ticks and intestinal worms and
we won’t even go into the host of gross
and despicable things they pick up from rolling
on the ground just before coming into the house and
jumping on the couch to use it as their
personal clean up towel but really they're
just grinding the grunge deeper into their fur.

But not my dog.
Bugs are naturally repelled by the aura of cleanness
that encircles him like a shield that even the most
tenacious insect cannot penetrate and his fur is like
teflon so if he encounter any foreign matter it slides right
off him and when he enters the house he wipes his
feet carefully on the door mat and politely asks if he is
adequately presentable before venturing inside.

Cats blink, dogs stink.
Boy do they! Imagine a grungy gym bag that has been
sitting in a locker with a load of sweat-laden clothing
and then that gym bag falls into a ditch full of putrid
standing water and then is dragged across a not-so-well
picked up dog park and then is left in a moldy shed
to marinate for weeks and that’s how dogs smell.

But not my dog.
He smells like a freshly washed linen sheet just pulled from
the outdoor clothesline of a country cottage except when he is
wet and then he smells like a freshly washed linen sheet that
has been left out on the clothesline during a brief
springtime rain shower.

Cats purr, dogs shed fur
in great quantities flying everywhere to land on clothing
and furniture and into food dishes and drinking glasses
and if you are wearing black it will come from a white dog
and if you’re wearing white it will be a brown or black dog
that blasts you like a porcupine releasing its quills.

But not my dog.
Oh I find the occasional strand of fur in the bathroom sink
after he has finished with his morning ablutions of tooth brushing
and face washing and running a brush through his ringlets of hair
and it is so pretty with a sheen like fine tinsel that I just
leave it there to enliven the otherwise dull bathroom decor.

And so now you can understand why I am a confirmed
cat person and would never ever even consider
owning a canine – except, of course – my dog.

It’s National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo)!

Day Eight prompt from NaPoWriMo.net: In your poem for today, use a simple phrase repeatedly, and then make statements that invert or contradict that phrase.

Special Delivery

Day 15 of National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) 

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write a six-line poem that has these qualities: informed by repetition, simple language, and expressing enthusiasm. And so…

Special Delivery

It’s coming! It’s coming! It’s coming! 
I heard it in my sleep! Two streets down.
Do you hear it now? Come outside!
I can’t see it, but I’ll bark my head off anyway, and
jump and paw at the fence, because it's coming: the day I
finally break outta here and catch that mail truck!

Dogs Make Me Laugh

Bloganuary prompt: What makes you laugh?

dog day1
“I’m really sorry I did it. Really, really sorry. Um… which ‘it’ did you discover?”

dog day2
“I don’t know why the cat dug up the water sprinkler, but I scared him away just before you got here.”

stylin4

stylin1

greener

partners2
“Hmmm. Fruity, black currant, vanilla, buttery… I’d say cab-sauvignon aged in oak.”
“I’d say cherry Pop Tart.”

partners3
“Are you sure, brown dog? Bark if I see ANYTHING at all on the street, and twice as loud if I see NOTHING at all?”

Creature Comforts

I’m awake. The cat has been sitting on my chest for several minutes now, grooming himself. You wouldn’t think of cat’s paws as anything but soft, but something hard is jabbing me in the ribs. Do cats have elbows? Sharp pointy elbows?

I shift pillows and comforter from the edge of the bed and summon my dog with a pat on the mattress. Sometimes he comes, sometimes he sits in the doorway of the bedroom and scratches himself, his back foot thumping a frantic beat on the hardwood floors.

When he deigns to join me, I lift my face so his sloppy greeting licks my chin and not my face. Then -usually – he turns his back on me and plops down, waiting for his back rub, or his “booty scritch” as I call it.

His luxurious coat is so soft, I bury my face in it and work my hand up the length of his spine and back down. He leans into the pressure, and turns his eskie smile on me. A pat on his bum, and a final smooch from him ends the ritual, and he hops to the floor.

Less nimble, I roll to the edge of the bed, sit up, place my feet on the cold floor,

and climb out of my comfort zone.


Bloganuary daily prompt: Write about the last time you left your comfort zone.

Last pic of July, ’21

For Bushboy’s Last on the Card Challenge:

The rules:

1. Post the last photo on your SD card or last photo on your phone for the 31st July.

2. No editing – who cares if it is out of focus, not framed as you would like or the subject matter didn’t cooperate.

3. You don’t have to have any explanations, just the photo will do

4. Create a Pingback to [Bushboy’s] post or link in the comments

5. Tag “The Last Photo”