Common Threads

 

Good Morning

Awake. Muscles stretch. 

A tiny black nose meets mine

from under the quilt.

And another one.

Two boys, ready to go out 

and sprinkle the rocks.

Back inside for treats

Breakfast: yogurt, graham crackers

Jeans leg tug of war 

But not with dress slacks

They know the difference – pants 

mean there’s a meeting 

And Dad is thinking

all serious, so no play 

when pants are involved

Until time to leave

They sit on the sofa arm

Wagging tails ~ (more treats)

Little ways we live 

Dance steps of love with our dogs 

That make life better! 

 

Penny

My therapist died. 

She would not dye my hair green 

because she knew me. 

When things were beyond 

my control I would tell her 

to cut my hair short. 

Penny knew that when

a woman’s world spirals she

tries to change her look.

I’m going to miss 

my secret keeper and friend

who kept my head straight. 

Rest In Peace, Penny.

Who Lies Here?

who lies here? 

a cemetery 

a headstone 

an urn 

a photograph 

perhaps no final resting place 

perhaps many

who lies here? 

someone with a birth weight  

delivered, diapered 

swaddled in a blanket 

placed into the waiting arms 

of a tearful mother 

    full of hope for her baby

who lies here?

someone who stood up 

      took first steps

fell down but 

      kept standing up 

who lies here?

someone who stood up 

in first grade 

  recited the Pledge of Allegiance        

      before ever learning to read 

who lies here? 

someone who stood up 

       for a friend 

on the playground 

       or in a war zone 

   someone who 

        had someone else’s back 

who lies here?

someone who stood up 

for what was right 

       who voted 

         who lived with passion

           who felt conviction

              who bravely took a side 

who lies here?

someone who stood up 

     and made a promise

        and kept it 

someone who stood up 

  who signed up

      who enlisted  

who lies here? 

someone who stood up

   for a country 

someone who stood up 

   for rights 

        and freedom 

who stood up for family

who stood up for strangers 

who stood up for you 

who lies here? 

someone with a death weight 

delivered home

swaddled in blues 

entombed in a flag-draped casket 

eternally held 

    in the indebted arms  

      of a nation 

whose hearts still beat 

to the marching cadence 

of the memory of 

one who stood up 

who lies here  

 

Zzzzzs

Those few extra zzzzzs

When he takes the dogs outside 

Does your job for you 

All so you can sleep 

Just a little while longer 

Because he loves you……

 

O. Deer

Her doe name is O. 

O. Deer is nibbling breakfast

close to the window.

Fitz and Boo explode!

O. Deer ignores, forages.

She’s One classy doe. 

O. takes her sweet time.

She lingers over grasses,

dismisses asses.

Her priorities 

do not include arguing 

with foolish dog foes.

 

Satisfaction

A Chueh-chu short sonnet

aaba cada 

Shall I retire at fifty four?

I would be blessed forevermore! 

I’d linger with my pen a while 

instead of racing out the door. 

Retirement thoughts bring dreamy    

smiles, 

daydreamy gaze of coastal shores ~ 

I want a plan that lets me breathe

sheer satisfaction to the core.

 

Oatmeal

there’s nothing like it 

oatmeal 

with brown sugar 

     and cream 

oatmeal 

there’s nothing like it 

with maple syrup 

     and mixed berries 

or with bananas 

     and milk and honey 

there’s nothing like it 

oatmeal 

versatile oatmeal 

with raisins 

     and cinnamon sugar 

there’s nothing like it

(Today’s breakfast was a Viator poem – my first attempt at this form today shifts the refrain in each line to the next sequenced line in each stanza where the refrain is always the final line of the poem)

 

Onyx Fox Squirrel

There is a certain fox squirrel…. 

that drives our Schnauzer, Fitz, nuts. He is no ordinary fox squirrel – he is onyx black with a tan nose, rather the size of a medium rabbit, who scampers curiously at the edge of the woods, his long bushy tail like a Jetski rooster, flagging his location as he darts about the tree line. His tailflag lowers and hangs like a damp dishrag whenever he snoozes as a black bear would on a limb, legs drooping down either side, illustrating the essence of coziness in a tree. He has absolutely no regard for Fitz, who watches from his window and barks incessantly to threaten the squirrel crossing boundaries. Fitz considers this particular squirrel even more maddening than the rest of his menagerie of lizards, deer,

and other critters all combined. 

We’ve talked about this, Fitz and I. And I’ve suggested that this squirrel could be deaf, wise, hyper focused or selectively ignorant. 

Deaf is a possibility, though not a strong one since he’s surviving in a territory filled with land and air predators. He didn’t get to be this age without a high degree of withitness. Hyper focus is also possible, but also unlikely because of the need to have the full 360 degree awareness of his surroundings to survive. Fitz believes the squirrel is ignorant and takes full canine offense to this selective tuning out by the squirrel, whose behavior shoes more than it ever tells Fitz that all the pine seedlings in the ground are more interesting than a mere glance at a fat black Schnauzer. But if I had to pick, I would say that the squirrel is wise and intentional in his patterns and routines. Every school kid could take a lesson from this furry rodent who does not let others get to him. He moves about his life with purpose and does not let his enemies ensnare him or rabbit-hole his efforts. He knows himself as the strong, important creature he is and does not allow himself time to stop and compare his own unique qualities to those of this fool-headed dog. He represents the true Libertarian logic “to each his own” – he is thinking : I’ll live my life, you love yours. I don’t care about your politics, religion, sexual orientation or income bracket – I’m fully supporting myself and I am capable of making my own choices without heeding your sphere of influence. 

The halls of every high school would be filled with far more successful students if they took some social lessons from this clever and wise fox squirrel! Nature – including our dogs – has much to teach us about human interaction! 

 

Farm and Island Dog Joy  

The deer conversations of the morning are nothing like what happens next in the timeline of a day in the life of one of our boys. There are all these lizards that bask in the windowsills of our house and drive our fearless Schnauzer, Fitz, to the brink of insanity  –

Broad Headed skinks, Five-Lined skinks, Fence lizards and Chameleons. This whole daily charade starts each day when the sun rises over the Johnson Funny Farm pines situated along the eastern boundary of the farm and warms the Savannah Gray bricks in the Reading Room windowsill overlooking the southeast edge of the pine forest. Fitz is long awaiting their appearance before they ever arrive – he lies in wait on the olivaceous ottoman and calculates his newly-devised attack strategies. Generally, he begins with the whiny alert that there is a considerer who pokes his head up and flagellates his tail before he ever commits to actually sprawling out into the full lizard bask – this goes on for fifteen minutes or so. He escalates to a high- pitched short bark just before any of his reptilian enemies relax – just enough to keep them wondering if the glass will offer protection from Fitz’s futile hunt for the day. Once any of these slithery specimens settles in enough to close its eyes, the full-on glass pawing begins – and sometimes on the inside sill to add noise and violent vibration, like bed-digging clear to China. 

The serious manner of his imparting fear and intimidation into his lizards is real to him and comes with a sheer passion to not only protect his people but to someday succeed in the art of the hunt – to bring home a trophy just like a farm cat would, dismembered and mostly mauled beyond recognition except for perhaps half a head and a set of spindly claws from a foot.  For Fitz, the whole encounter must be a lot like watching a hunting show on TV – all the while knowing that just like you will never win a new car watching The Price is Right in a game show, you’re never going to catch a lizard on the opposite side of a window pane. But still – your excited heart is drawn into the rush and you can’t let it go. 

There are no conversations between Fitz and these lizards as there are with the deer – at least not that I have overheard. He is not threatened by them in the least – he simply wants to tear them apart and be praised by his people as a great and legendary lizard hunter.  Oh, for that day to arrive! 

Meanwhile, on a barrier island off the coast of Georgia, Fitz’s adopted Aunt Kona, a Schnoodle seven years younger than he  – who reigns as queen of her local dog park and who is known by name to all the locals – is having a birthday party today at 5 pm inside the double fence. All the regulars and the dog owners will be there as she leads the birthday parade into the park with a portable cooler full of ice cream for the guests who are there to celebrate the difference she has made in her owner’s life in only four short months. She entered his world only through divine intervention – (understand: there is no such thing as a free female young doodle, delivered in the arms of a man wearing a Florida State University t-shirt who drives three hours to meet you halfway for the drop because he’s going through a rough divorce and knows that his prayers for his dog have been answered – – this happens nowhere in this world except by the hand of God in Romans 8:28). Celebratory cheers will erupt in the park today as attendees select their choice of ice cream sandwiches, nutty bars, and other sweet frozen treats. They’ll lift their hearts in joy as they sing a birthday song to a sweetheart of a dog who has brought a band of caring folks together who all share the unconditional love of their dogs – a love that transcends all that is humanly possible.  

 Non-Reindeer Mind Games

There is this sweet little doe who comes to our window and plays mind games with our schnauzer Fitz, who knows his one job is to keep wildlife at bay. But this deer won’t budge

He warns her repeatedly, but 

she says that this is the best yard in the entire state of Georgia and she has no intention of settling for another one 

he scoffs and growls at that remark 

she says she likes the lush grass and vegetation – such lovely flora-  and the safety from the threats of predators nearby in other yards where there are guns

Fitz tries to convince her that this house has guns, too, but she refuses to believe him… she says she knows his daddy

she says this grass is the best green color for peeing on anywhere that she has ever seen and has her favorite spots all marked and that he would do well to stay off of them

Fitz rebukes her, insisting that she is killing the grass that his dad works so hard to maintain, but she says no – she says sees him out on the tractor and that his dad has invited her to live here and pee on any spot she likes….they talk, she tells Fitz….

she says the trails and routes that she take at various times throughout the day are her favorites she has ever made and that she will keep right on walking them, as he barks his little head off from the window. She says if he wants to bark like a fool and lose his voice, that’s his choice, that she will just keep staring at him like a caged enemy

Fitz tells her that this is no place for safety, that he has personally seen rabid foxes and raccoons, coyotes beefy enough to take her and her girlfriends and their babies down, hawks attacking small mammals, and packs of dogs fiercer than serial killers , not to mention the copperheads and rattlesnakes slithering about 

she says those animals are only looking for small, black, fat Schnauzers that look like little insane German philosophers and that they do not scare her

he tells her that there are more ticks and spiders in this acreage than anywhere else in this county and that Lyme Disease is the new Covid for deer

she tells him that his dad has treated the entire property just for her with some special, safe tick dust that might kill little dogs and ticks, but it won’t hurt her…she says she heard he brought a tick to bed that attacked his mother and that his mother says it might be safer to sleep with a deer, so she’s coming indoors to sleep with us tonight in his spot – and lifts her chin and walks behind the trees

Fitz lets loose a stream of mammalian cuss words not translatable to humans and storms off to our bed, claiming his spot for a morning nap and strategizing his next mind game moves

….as he does every morning…..