Gift with the wrappings off

by Mary Elizabeth Counselman

Oh, what can you do with a Christmas pup
in a little apartment three flights up?
He prowls.

And whenever the landlord happens by
with a “Rent’s due!” gleam in his fishy eye,
He Howls!

Or whenever you dress for a hurry date,
with a frantic prayer that you won’t be late,
He “helps”!

Or when guests sit down in the rocking chair
and neglect to see if a tail is there.
He yelps!

And if you protest that he isn’t hurt
and call him out from beneath your skirt,
He balks.

Or perhaps there’s rain, or a two-foot snow,
or it’s three a.m. – then he’s got to go
For walks!

And the place you pick for his bed at night
is the one sure place that he doesn’t quite
Approve.

Oh, what can you do with a Christmas pup
in a little apartment three flights up?
Move?

Gift with the wrappings off by Mary Elizabeth Counselman

I started Early – Took my Dog

by Emily Dickinson

I started Early – Took my Dog –
And visited the Sea –
The Mermaids in the Basement
Came out to look at me –

And Frigates – in the Upper Floor
Extended Hempen Hands –
Presuming Me to be a Mouse –
Aground – opon the Sands –

But no Man moved Me – till the Tide
Went past my simple Shoe –
And past my Apron – and my Belt
And past my Boddice – too –

And made as He would eat me up –
As wholly as a Dew
Opon a Dandelion’s Sleeve –
And then – I started – too –

And He – He followed – close behind –
I felt His Silver Heel
Opon my Ancle – Then My Shoes
Would overflow with Pearl –

Until We met the Solid Town –
No One He seemed to know –
And bowing – with a Mighty look –
At me – The Sea withdrew –

Maya Fable: The Loyal Dog

There once was a man who was so poor that he was always in a bad mood, and did not miss any chance to mistreat his unhappy dog.
Kakasbal (the spirit of evil), who is in everything, saw that he could take advantage of the dislike that the dog surely must feel towards his master, and he appeared before the dog and said:
“Hey, talk to me, you look sad.”
How could I not be? My master hits me whenever he wants to,” the dog replied.
“I know he has bad feelings. Why don’t you leave him?”
“He is my master and I must be loyal.”
“I could help you to escape.”
“I won’t leave him for anything.”
“He will never be grateful for your loyalty.”
“It makes no difference, I will remain loyal.”
So Kakasbal started to count the hairs on the dog. And when his fingers reached the tail, the dog remembered the loyalty he had for his master, and he jumped, causing Kakasbal to lose count.
“Why did you move?” asked Kakasbal.
“I can’t be still because of all the fleas which bite me day and night. Start again.”
A hundred times Kakasbal started to count, and a hundred times he was interrupted because the dog jumped. Finally, Kakasbal decided:
“I’m not counting anymore. You have deceived me, but you have taught me a lesson. I now know that it is easier to buy the soul of a man than it is to buy the soul of a dog.”

Yucatán Today: Maya Fable: The Loyal Dog

The Cat and the Dog

by William Allingham

There once lived a Man, a Cat, and a Dog,
And the Man built a house with stone and log.
“If you’ll help to take care of this house with me,
One indoors, one out, your places must be.”
Said both together, “Indoors I’ll stay!”
And they argued the matter for half-a-day.

“Come, let us sing for it!” purrs the Cat;
“No!” barks the Dog, “I won’t do that.”
“Come, let us fight for it!” growls Bow-wow;
“Nay!” says Pussy, “mee-ow, mee-ow!”
“Well, let us race for it!”—said and done.
The course is mark’d out, and away they run.

Puss bounded off; the Dog ran fast;
Quickly was Puss overtaken and pass’d;
But a Beggar who under the hedge did lie
Struck the poor Dog as he gallop’d by
A blow with his staff, and lessen’d his pace
To a limp: so Pussy won the race.

The Beggar went on his way to beg;
Dog was cured of his limping leg;
And Cat keeps the inside of the house,
Watching it well from rat and mouse,
Dog keeps the outside, ever since then,
And always barks at beggar-men.

Happy National Dog Day!

KO O MOTTE

子をもつて近所の犬の名をおぼえ

ko o motte

kinjo no inu no

na o oboe

Having a child

The neighbourhood dogs

Names he knows well!

April is a Dog’s Dream

BY MARILYN SINGER

april is a dog’s dream
the soft grass is growing
the sweet breeze is blowing
the air all full of singing feels just right
so no excuses now
we’re going to the park
to chase and charge and chew
and I will make you see
what spring is all about

Question

by  May Swenson

Body my house
my horse my hound
what will I do
when you are fallen

Where will I sleep
How will I ride
What will I hunt

Where can I go
without my mount
all eager and quick
How will I know
in thicket ahead
is danger or treasure
when Body my good
bright dog is dead

How will it be
to lie in the sky
without roof or door
and wind for an eye

With cloud for shift
how will I hide?

Dog’s Day

Happy National Dog Day!

Do You Love Me?

by Robert Wrigley

She’s twelve and she’s asking the dog,
who does, but who speaks
in tongues, whose feints and gyrations
are themselves parts of speech.

They’re o­n the back porch
and I don’t really mean to be taking this in
but o­nce I’ve heard I can’t stop listening. Again
and again she asks, and the good dog

sits and wiggles, leaps and licks.
Imagine never asking. Imagine why:
so sure you wouldn’t dare, or couldn’t care
less. I wonder if the dog’s guileless brown eyes

can lie, if the perfect canine lack of abstractions
might not be a bit like the picture books
she “read” as a child, before her parents’ lips
shaped the daily miracle of speech

and kisses, and the words were not lead
and weighed o­nly air, and did not mean
so meanly. “Do you love me?” she says
and says, until the dog, sensing perhaps

its own awful speechlessness, tries to bolt,
but she holds it by the collar and will not
let go, until, having come closer,
I hear the rest of it. I hear it all.

She’s got the dog’s furry jowls in her hands,
she’s speaking precisely
into its laid back, quivering ears:
“Say it,” she hisses, “Say it to me.”

Biscuit

by Jane Kenyon

The dog has cleaned his bowl
and his reward is a biscuit,
which I put in his mouth
like a priest offering the host.

I can’t bear that trusting face!
He asks for bread, expects
bread, and I in my power
might have given him a stone.