It doesn't seem like 10 years

We confess, we were overly optimistic yesterday when we though we might  have recovered enough to check out the local prairie smoke patch today. We barely survived walking the dogs at lunch time. Speaking of the dogs, it's time to acknowledge that it was about this time in May, ten years ago, that  Franco, the Better Half's border collie cross came to live in his forever home with us. We're glad he did. He definitely makes life more interesting, gives SiSi, my yellow lab cross, someone to play with, and persists in believing he can herd the wild turkeys that visit the back yard.

Franco, May 2011

Photo by J. Harrington

Mongrel Heart

By David Baker

Up the dog bounds to the window, baying

         like a basset his doleful, tearing sounds

             from the belly, as if mourning a dead king,

and now he’s howling like a beagle – yips, brays,

         gagging growls – and scratching the sill paintless,

              that’s how much he’s missed you, the two of you,

both of you, mother and daughter, my wife

         and child. All week he’s curled at my feet,

             warming himself and me watching more TV,

or wandered the lonely rooms, my dog shadow,

        who like a poodle now hops, amped-up windup

            maniac yo-yo with matted curls and snot nose

smearing the panes, having heard another car

           like yours taking its grinding turn down

               our block, or a school bus, or bird-squawk,

that’s how much he’s missed you, good dog,

         companion dog, dog-of-all-types, most excellent dog

             I told you once and for all we should never get. 

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