Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
You hear scary growling under your bed?
It's not the Boogeyman, just the neighbor's German Shepard that wants dog treats.
And maybe a steak bone to go with it. Medium rare would be preferred
Hank Helman Nov 2015
When I asked you for the naked truth,
It was not an invitation,
To strip bald at Starbucks,
And opera sing the national anthem.

Although I’m sure the  ovation and applause was exhilarating,
And my god, I was certain you were going to fall off our table,
In fact, I now think a birthday suit should be mandatory,
For everybody when they sing the nation's song.


Never the less,
In future I will choose my clichés more carefully.
God knows what you’d have done
Had I asked you to bare your soul.
It was an unsettling first date, yet I am intrigued.
Text me if this Friday works for you.
just having fun--
Oscar Mann Oct 2015
I’ve met too many
Manifestly two-faced people
Who’d stab you in the back
With the sincerest of smiles
To trust in the true dedication
Of man’s so called best friend

I don’t care about loyalty
Companionship bores me to death
And since I don’t need protection
I’ve solemnly decided that
The most truthful pet
Is my wicked, disinterested cat
Styles Oct 2015
One day, Hunter, our family dog of 9 years, died while he was sleeping. My wife and I, were devastated by the loss, and were worried how it would impact our ten-year-old son, Vincent.

Since Hunter was his first dog, and they were inseparable -- we weren’t sure how we would approach such a delicate topic, with such a young child. Finally, that afternoon we decided to be honest, and just let him know that Hunter had passed, peacefully, in his sleep -- then try to comfort him.

That same night, we told Vincent what had happened to Hunter. We weren’t sure if he understood that he would never be able to see Hunter again, and that there was nothing we could do to change that  -- but to our amazement,  he was surprisingly calm. And as we explained it to him,that Hunter was no longer with us, he seemed to get calmier.

To our surprise, while tucking Vincent into bed, we noticed that he was handling the news better than we were. In fact, as he reached up and gave his mother a huge hug, it seemed like he was comforting us more than we could, him.

As we were dimming his room light, he asked if we could have pancakes, Hunter’s favorite,for breakfast in the morning. We look at each other smiled. then agreed. We blew him a kiss goodnight, and we wandered off to bed.

The next morning, during breakfast, we noticed that Vincent was back to his cheerful self, rushing down the stairs and dashing to the table, to join us for pancakes. As I watched him, wrestling with the cap of the syrup, It seemed like he had come to his own understanding of what had happened to Hunter -- which he eagerly explained it to us, as he drenched his stack of pancakes with maple syrup,

“When Hunter was a little puppy, we took him away from his Mother. It must have been very sad day for her, because she loved him with all of her heart -- just like we do. And just like us, she wasn’t ready for him to leave -- but we still took him away to a beautiful new home, to be with his new family, far away from her. He grew up to be a big strong dog that loved and protected us, the same way his Mother did her family.” he continued explaining,

“And since Hunter is such a special dog, the whole time he was with us, his Mother must have been praying that he would come back to her someday, so she could be happy again.  Nine years ago, God answered our prayers by giving us Hunter. Last night, he finally answered hers, by giving him back.”

He said, “And even though we loved him,  and we weren’t ready for him to leave --  God had to give Hunter back to his Mother, to live in their beautiful new home, Heaven. Where they can grow old together, loving and protecting the way they did us. It okay to be sad, but God had to take him, because we wouldn’t have been able to let him go on our own.”

As I listened, stunned by what he had just heard. I looked over at my wife, struggling to hold back her tears. In that moment, we both realized, that our ten-year-old son had just given us the comfort we wanted to give him.
This is a story about a Man's Best Friend, and if you are the owner an amazing dog, them you understand the saying. If you are dealing with a loss, I hope this story will help you as much as it helped me. If you have a friend that lost a pet, please forward them this story-- they will appreciate it as much as I did. Thanks.
RIP Hunter
Oh, there you are...

Each mourning
I am taken aback
as I meet an array
of night time travelers
Lined up by size
Field Mouse, Seal Black Mole,
Ginger Chipmunk
piece de resistance...Grey Squirrel

Relieved of warm
tummies and hearts
(delectable within certain circles)
you have been gathered and
laid out with great
pride. Gifts by our
hunters of the dark

A moment as I honor each one
last rites whispered
I gently scoop you all up
timing critical
for the changing of the guards
three boasting cats come in...

three eager dogs going out...
Their anticipation thwarted
discovering that this
veritable feast has once
again been removed


Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.
Sean Flaherty Oct 2015
So maybe I got riled up, and thought he was trying to steal my ****.

I don't work at Stop & Shop anymore, but I still
almost cried at those dogs,
on television.
The world is an impure place, but in times of trouble, you can always double your dose.

Trouble us. Forever.

As low, in your clever-minded excuses, to get out of your
parents' disapproval.
I bought so many
hallucinations, that I'm debating a few more.

Hope I remember writing these words. Scary to consider,
but there, nonetheless. The world is
melting into all sorts.
Colors, that I love.

Hope I remember writing these words, and the light,
reflecting off the ink,
in rainbows of black. The
ash, an impossibly-unforeseen consequence,
of the cigarette. The
cancer is laughed off. And you had forgotten my name.

Cutting up the canvas, she called it, "blood," even though, by a trained-eye, it lacked.  
Any tactic will take flight.
Take care to catch yourself when your wax melts onto your owned face.
Not your practiced one.
Francie Lynch Oct 2015
If one comes
Between
A man and his dog,
One would be a target.

Should one come
Bbetween a man
And his cat,
Well,
That's
Something
Rarely heard of.
Blinking Nose Oct 2015
It was a clear sky of blue
A little patch of green
By me were a dog or two
And a home so serene

The wind chimes clanked
There was a chill in the air
For September had just begun
What was it, if not a little bit of heaven
Francie Lynch Sep 2015
When the phone's at home
I'm a dog
Without his bark-collar on;
Off the leash,
Off the property,
Snapping at gulls
On the beach.
I'm digging up old bones,
Lifting a leg,
Barking and chasing
What crosses my path.

Back at home
I loose my dog brain;
I'm tethered and yanked
By a cellular line.
The yelping,
And begging
Have me pining
For the freedom of
My inner canine.
Don Bouchard Aug 2015
We're walking as the sun begins
Its morning rise behind the trees
Just past our house
Joe and I,
Pond on our right,
Cars to the left,
Hill path curving
Up and out of sight.
Morning smells,
The call of geese,
The morning voice of robins,
Cars rushing,
Loud and soft and loud.

Our morning walk,
The route we know...
And the routine.

We do not talk, he and I,
Alone in our heads,
He with his man,
I with my dog thoughts.

This path is the path of years,
Slower now,
Still connected with a leather leash,
We stroll convinced of nothing
But the need to walk.

This morning's different, though...
Joe stops halfway up the morning hill,
Houses and our house below...behind,
Says, "Tuck, old boy,
Should we change this time?"
Stoops to look into my eyes,
Unsnaps the leash...
To my surprise.

His smile lets me see
That I am free.
"No need, I think," he says.

I turn and look back
Toward our house,
Think of geese now standing
On the dewy grass,
Observe the sunlight
Glisten on the stand of corn
Beside us,
Remember past enticing smells
Along the way....
A rabbit scent invites me
Off the path to stray....

Joe's moving now,
On up our hill.
I am standing on the path,
A little shocked and still.

A younger dog would run,
But habit's set its track;
Our mutual walk lies up ahead,
So, faithful now, I move
To walk beside my Joe,
Content to travel with a friend,
And let the running go....
Dogs and men are not so different, I think. The God who set a leash on me may someday stoop to look into my eyes. I hope He sees a friend, set in the path of walking with Him. I need nothing more...if only I would realize it.   -Morning Meditation, August 24, 2015
Next page