Never did I think
the little prankster pup
newly entered  in my life,
could express so quick
in a tongue not his;
ebulliently thankful,
he runs towards me
and yells  "PA PA"
every time I get near.

Alight me Paddies! Today the world is Green;
I am in a mood, alas, to gnaw crubeen,
To kiss my Irish lass, and cuddle her awhile,
To hear the Irish Rovers sing their bonny Isle,
To wear a shamrock, laboring o'er a stout:
Murphy or Guinness, to me it matters naught.

Cats are said to be able
to see in the dark.**
Most of us as we age, stumble
when our feet, somewhat numb
set sail slow toward
midnight's bathroom call
bouncing like boats
against strong headwinds.

Unlike a teen boy whose sharp eyes
quickly pierce darkness, I am unable
to gather flecks of sight
in deepest night.
My eyes, like my feet
find some way to fight through
years of wear and abuse to
function enough to reach
my perch of relief.

Soon the midnight treks
will become so arduous
no sexton nor settings
will keep the strengthening winds
from blowing me
to whatever shore fate
has cast for me.

She's lying on an old gray rug beside the kitchen table
Head gently resting on her paws,
Eyes watching me by the kitchen door.

"No tail wag this morning?"
I ask, and move to kneel beside my Callie,
Lay a gentle hand on her curly brow,
A pat for my old friend,
Who lifts her head and sets her quiet jaw upon my arm.

Standard poodles seldom sit for long,
But Callie's been here all night now for near a month...
Stays motionless, except her eyes and lifted head.
This morning my old friend attempts to rise...
She shakes a little and I see the sadness in her eyes.

A thousand times we've left together,
Headed to the barn in any weather;
She's ridden shotgun on the pickup seat,
And shared the ride and anything I had to eat.

The suture's long and tight along the leg.
The tumor's gone, but cancer has a way
Of reappearing in another place
In old dogs and old men tiring in their race
Against the gods of time and space.

"I'll be back soon, old girl," I say
And rise to start the choring day,
And Callie, good girl that she is,
Attempts to follow to the door,
Until my wife arrives to lead her
Back to her warm spot beside the table.

Mortality and love are on my mind
As the bitter January wind hits hard.
The cows are bawling at the barn,
And I have tanks of ice to break,
And buckets full of feed to haul...
Must be the dust that hurts me after all these years,
Or else I can't account for all these tears.

the time in between when
  she leaves and when
  she comes
              usually like a cold
  wind on my nose passes
  before I notice it came
        half my heart and mind
    leave for a while shortly
      after the sun rises and
             before it begins to recede
she will return.
              Barely enough room in our
         room for a bed and a table
           but nevermind
                         in a hot heap on the the soft quilt
           I am running in endless yellow flowered
                prairies with unfettered sunlight
                    on my back chasing rabbits
                and gnawing on grasses shaking off dew
                            sometimes I awake long enough
                 to realize the sunlight is
                             really falling from behind
                 the pane of a small window shining down
                  in a patch upon me.
                                            still just as warm,
                                      later I awake to see the sun
has gone completely and I become
           worried,
     anxious, spreading like
  wildfire or dark clouds in the sky.
  I feel a storm is coming
            in my bones
    and start to shake
  a sound escapes me in a
         whistle of pain.

    It’s late and it’s storming I don’t like storms
  so she’d never leave me alone
         whines turn into howls because
  something is up
            howls pass like this
            worried    worry
   alone with shaking pains and the
        lightning starts oh no oh no
   the world is breaking to pieces
    or some such catastrophe much
                  too much for me and I
                     retreat into a corner,
                                small
    what if she’s gone
              forever?
                  what will become of this
     room and our happy?
    my ears perk up as footsteps pad the hallway
  and a key enters the lock.
             immediately I rise and try
   to contain the happiness
  overflowing from every little fur,
              my tail is wagging me to
                     death I swear
               my heart beating out
                         of existence. The door
            opens and she’s in
                    her smell surrounds me
                      wafts of comfort and
                  together she’s back back
                                back
                 and I notice she’s howling,
                wet flowing from her
                nose and eyes,
                         sounds of pain.

                what’s wrong? we’re home,
                      together, nothing’s wrong.
                    she collapses at the door,
Pushing
           her back to softly close the latch.

                      I turn in three circles
                     rest my head in her lap
                                and wait.

When I was young we ran together
faster than me but never
the less good fun
together
we
always together
and I would say this is forever you and me a team as
girl and dog should be
in rain sun moon and stars alike
together were we through hills and hikes
tired and hungry and happy
together
I remember the tears that
arrived at
the mere thought of
alone
I remember the knowing and
the waiting
but we were together you and me as
girl and dog should be
kept alive out of dumb love
flew from us at the first a
hand stroked multicolored fluff
and a long tongue lapped a cheek
eyes glassy and nose wet
at the thought of
together
a happy thought alone
but reality took
you away from me
and death did not come for me as it
should because hell
I was never really meant to be here in the first place
kept alive in the free flying years by
a bark and bated breath
the only thing in this world I
could never dream to live without
heart wrenchingly alone with nothing
as this nightmare passes in the
years and hours
no love anymore and nobody
I miss you
and there’s nobody who’d see as we
what girl and dog should be.

Brown skinny road doggy
sorry you aren’t my priority
often though your furs brush
when by you I rush past
like I don’t look at an empty carton
don't notice your feeling alone
your eyes all the time cast on me
not understanding what keeps me busy
to don't look back to show I care
and acknowledge you’re there
thinking this man if only he knew
how aches a heart that loves like you!

A walk on the beach in the morning
is never a simple affair
once the dog is dressed and the kid's on the leash
we leave with the breeze in our hair.
We walk along the shoreline
and watch the changing tide
we clamber over rockpools
where creatures deftly hide.
I'm not a morning person
My brain remains asleep
for at least two hours after
my eyes begin to peep.
So I take in the horizon
with a deep and grateful sigh
while boy and dog go running
off to greet some passers by
the fishermen are chatting
showing them their daily catch
while the dog he begs for something
from the bucket, just a scrap
So the guy picks out a live one
and shows it to the pup
who jumps away quite quickly
treats forgotten, heckles up.
My son he takes a finger
and reaches out to feel
this shining, writhing creature
in a bucket made of steel.
He flinches as it flips it's tail
annoyed that he can't catch it
but it slithers through his tiny hands
and back into the bucket.
We turn our tails and head for home
and talk of what we've seen
the boy says in his grown up voice
lets not have fish for tea.