Boo Picks Fights He Can’t Win Haiku
at pickup they told
us our dogs got in a fight
we both looked at Boo ~
Boo Radley caused it
guilty ~ with a bleeding ear
(both brothers smiling)
Dogfight
Belonging in the Change
a tiny black wet
Schnoodle nose
nudges my arm as
marble-black eyes
covered with wild brows
peer up at me
from the camper seat
when I lift my arm
to raise my mug,
drink cold brew coffee
from my Halloween
Snoopy mug I truly
believe will make
the cool temperatures
arrive sooner ~
Fitz is slumped
against me,
seeking, too, all
the magic of
forthcoming fall
the changing
of seasons, gentle
wind blowing outside,
a tad early for the
acorns peppering the
camper’s roof but
all the rest of
the comfort of rituals
he knows as
reassuring trust
and belonging
in his forever family
Day 5 of July Open Write
Mo Daley of Illinois is our host today at http://www.ethicalela.com for Day 5 of the July Open Write. She inspires us to write dodoitsu poems. Mo writes, “I was looking for poetic forms that I was unfamiliar with and stumbled upon the dodoitsu. It’s a four-lined Japanese form with no set rhyme scheme. Its syllabic structure is 7-7-7-5. The dodoitsu is usually comical and usually concerns love or work. Include a title if you wish.”
Mo notes that some consider the dodoitsu the Japanese limerick. It reminded me of our schnauzer, Fitz, who has CUPS disease and has had most of his teeth removed and is scheduled for the rest. He may have lost his teeth, but he hasn’t lost his ranking order.
Toothless Alpha
he’s practically toothless
our aging schnauzer alpha
gumming vicious warning snaps
at badass others
Sunday 3-Dog Donut Tricube
donut dogs
breakfast on
Sunday treats
trio of
Schnoodle boys
all lined up
awaiting
their next bites
patiently
*Tricube poetry consists of 3 stanzas with 3 lines of 3 syllables each, on any topic. As I prepare to return to school this year, I look forward to working with small groups of writers. These short forms help introduce various aspects of poetry such as line breaks, syllables, and structure. Having a bank of poems I’ve written helps me to introduce these to students as we write together.
Fitz’s CUPS
We learned a couple of years ago that our more-Schnauzery-miniature-Schnoodle, Fitz, has Chronic Ulcerative Paradental Stomatitis (CUPS), a painful condition in which the plaque builds up on his teeth and causes painful mouth ulcers. We knew something was wrong when my sweet lap dog who was never anywhere else took to the underbed and began whining odd-sounding noises. It prompted a vet visit, which turned up the diagnosis.
We have to have his teeth cleaned regularly, and with each cleaning we have had to return for extractions to alleviate his condition by removing teeth. He’s down to practically goat status, and after eleven teeth the first time, 8 teeth the second time, and now a projected additional 8 teeth, I’m inclined to go ahead with extracting all of them and resort to soft foods just to end his pain once and for all and give him some quality days in his senior years. There’ll be enough other aging crap to suffer, so this will put the skids on one condition.
This is the downside of rescuing a dog in poor health (Fitz came to us with a severely broken leg, among other things), but it’s also the upside. I ask myself: if not us, then who?
We may not be able to love every needed rescue and save them all, but we can make a difference for this one.
And that matters. If you’re teetering on the verge of rescuing an aging dog, do it! Even though an aging dog sometimes costs a small fortune, the return is love as they gaze into your eyes and wish they could talk to tell you how much they appreciate all you do for them – – – and what’s more valuable than that?
our dog has few top teeth in his mouth
now after a cleaning we learn
he needs more tooth extractions
we need a Go Fund Me
to afford Fitzie
but there is no
price on love…..
he’s our
boy
Boo Shoo Nonet
Boo’s got that human look in his eyes
the kind people give as eye rolls
stare-down between dog and man
are you being for real?
I’m gon’ ignore that!
you’re joking, right??
go away!
I’m done.
Shoo!
****
oh,
but then
Boo Radley
steals my chair, begs
me to sit with him
to assure him that his
world is on its right axis
that he is the favorite dog
begs my forgiveness for his Boo shoos
Sunday Morning Donuts Nonet
they like their mini donut breakfasts
it’s what happens on Sundays here
pre First-Baptist-of-You-Tube
sitting at their dad’s feet
waiting on a bite
patient Schnoodles
best-behavied
time of
all
A Saga in Six Days of Life When You Live on a Farm: Featuring Boo Radley and the Unexpected, Day 6
Day 6
our Boo Radley
did a most
surprising thing ~
our Boo
forced a threatening
brown bull to retreat
to turn tail
and
take to the woods
or was that his intention?
was he a charger of bulls
or was he a shepherd
of cows?
was he herding them
back in their farm direction
because he knew they
were lost, drifters one
farm south of theirs,
needing a nudge?
this is, after all
the Funny Farm,
where you have
to be a little
sideways to end
up here in the
land of the
unexpected
where wrinkles in
perceptions become
realities like this:
Boo Radley is a
shepherding schnoodle
of lost herds, the
meanest bulls not
excluded, because
he knows how it feels
to be lost, looking
for home, aggressively
persuading them not
to give up a good thing
all this brings back
the day we were
on the beach
late afternoon
on a cloudy day
sipping wine
on a blanket
when two women
much further into
their bottle
walked by us too close
to our beach campout
according to Boo
Boo corrected
them
~not politely~
and in their swagger,
in their smirks,
their chuckles,
one taunted back:
oh, what a little badass!
fast forward
the years
to today and I
want to go back
to that moment
and say
yes ma’am,
he certainly is!
he fulfilled the
prophesy at the bottom
of your
wine bottle
you saw the future
of our little rescue
Schnoodle named
Boo Radley~
a champion badass
herder of bulls
you weren’t bullshitting
Day 15 of #VerseLove2024 with Angie Braaten
Angie Braaten is our host today at http://www.ethicalela.com for the 15th day of #VerseLove2024. You can read her full prompt, along with the poems and comments of others, here. Today, Angie inspires us to write elegies in the style of Clint Smith. You can read two of Clint Smith’s poems here:
Clint Smith’s “Playground Elegy” and “No More Elegies Today”
Honey Buttered Toast
Today I will
write a poem
about a dog eating honey buttered toast
it will not be a metaphor for a land of milk and honey or savior-style pet rescue
it will not be an allegory for a character named Boo Radley, white as a ghost, who saved people, found standing behind a door
but rather about bottled wildflowers
sweetly spun nectar of honeybees
dancing through the meadow, kissing blossoms
but rather about buttery cream
freshly churned from Guernseys
grazing green grasses of the meadow
but rather about chaffed wheat
grain gleaned from the meadow
ground and baked and sliced and toasted
but rather about the blending of ordinary meadow things
that become the extraordinary
when the world doesn’t want to read another dog poem
For I Will Consider My Schnoodle Ollie – The Stafford Challenge Day 47, Slice of Life Challenge Day 3
Several years ago, I led a poetry workshop for teachers in my district using Mary Oliver’s Dogsongs as our text, inviting participants to write mirror poems inspired by the late great poet. One of my favorite poems in this collection is For I Will Consider My Dog Percy, which she wrote about her own dog following the form of Christopher Smart in the 1700s in his poem Jubilate Agno, or For I will Consider My Cat Jeoffry.
Over the years, we have adopted several rescues, and they appear frequently in my writing. They’re all named after favorite Literary figures. We have Boo Radley from To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, because he was abandoned and found behind a door, an outcast of his original people. His rescue organization named him Einstein for his matted and untamed hair when he was found. I wrote a For I Will Consider poem about my Schnoodle, Boo Radley.
We also adopted a badly-abused (mostly Schnauzer, but some poodle) Schnoodle named Henry at the time, who had road rash and a broken leg that required surgery to save and eight weeks of intense physical therapy with his foster mom. We followed his journey back to health online, and prayed they would place him with us. When the news came, we eagerly met the foster mom and welcomed Henry into the fold, renaming him Fitz for F. Scott Fitzgerald, the party animal author. Turns out, he’d been correctly named as transcendental Henry David Thoreau, because he doesn’t party. Here is a poem I wrote about my Schnoodle, Fitz.
Which brings me to King. He was a young stray found on the streets of north Georgia, and he was supposed to be our girl. I’d put in a request with the rescue about a year prior to welcoming King, but the rescue called one day to let me know that they had a Schnoodle who met all the matching criteria as a good adoptee for us….except gender. I couldn’t resist the opportunity to meet this boy who needed a home but who had been turned down by two other families. It only took seconds. King was renamed Ollie for my favorite poet, Mary Oliver, and rode home with us that very day we’d hopped in the car for the 3 hour drive to meet him.
I’ve never written a For I Will Consider poem about Ollie, so today is the day especially set aside for my trophy dog we call the baby..
For I Will Consider My Schnoodle Ollie
For I will consider my schnoodle Ollie.
For he was a young stray running the streets, a real canine gangsta.
For he was named King like royalty, taken to a foster castle.
For he was rescued, brought to our Funny Farm with his one true love: a ball.
For he was renamed Ollie after Mary, who loved dogs through and through.
For he needs no bells and whistles when simple will do.
For he realized all too soon he had brothers vying for position.
For he rejected all possibility of being low dog.
For he rose like a king to the throne.
For we call him the baby.
For he eats sheets.
For he listens for empty K-cup boxes to hit the floor....(for he eats those too).
For he bites ankles and eats Ada Limon poetry books.
For he places one paw on the head of his brothers (sibling annoyance tactic? or knighting?).
For there is no such thing as a quick pee when there are things to see.
For he "kicks" the ball with his nose like a gauntlet at our feet. Throw, he commands.
For he catches popcorn mid-air.
For he fully belongs in our tribe.
For we whisper to him: you're the best dog we've got.
For he returns our love with royal full-face kisses.
