The Prompt: Tell us about a time you should have stopped and helped someone but didn’t.
When I rise at seven to let her out,
she’s in a hurry, without a doubt,
for I see only a streaking blur––
a tip of tail and whirr of fur.
As she rushes out to pee,
the shame is not on her, but me.
I heard her bark an hour ago,
but it was only seven and so
I thought I’d just go back to sleep
and she made no further peep.
Now I see the pile upon the floor
just inside the open door
held as long as she was able,
then hidden underneath the table.
Not the first time in twelve years
that she’s caught me in arrears
in opening doors to let her out,
yet it is true without a doubt
that she has never erred before
and made a mess upon the floor.
I know that she is feeling shame,
even though she’s not to blame.
For once she is not under feet
as I prepare something to eat;
and when I call, she does not come.
She’s in the garden, feeling glum.
She feels she’s done a shameful act
devoid of training, breeding, tact.
She does not know that I’m the one
standing here with smoking gun.
Every bit of blame is mine,
for Frida’s former record is fine.
For twelve long years, she never peed
upon the roof in time of need
even when we didn’t know
she was locked up there and so
there is no need to hang her head
in shame of what she’s done, and dread
of being scolded or being blamed.
I am the one who should be shamed!

Love “the smoking gun.” Your writing is so “in the present” that I am present, in time and in angst. Dare I hope you have both recovered from the trauma.
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Aww. Frida is a lady and lady-like is mortified at her slip. Give her a special treat (just for her)..of beef or chicken or something (bacon?) that she will enjoy and perhaps her mortification will ease. That’s a splendid record she had by the way! 🙂
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I know and actually it was a garage she pooped in..I totally forgot that she was there. She’s such a good girl that she would not have an accident unless it was absolutely impossible to hold it. She is a lady. You are right. Just a noisy lady when she hears the garage door or her dinner bowl scraping! Then she is a banshee!
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Dog-kind knows no manners when dinner is eminent…or any kind of food that they might enjoy! 🙂
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Lovely account of an accident that has filled you with much more guilt than poor Frida. But, Judy, when I was young my sister and I had a golden retriever who was just the same. He’d hang on for hours if he couldn’t get out but never gave us cause to reassure him. But you hit exactly the right tone so well, the poor animal is much, much smarter than we are 🙂 Anton
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Can anything make us feel as guilty as our pets?
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Probably kids…But they grow up and move away. I bought two huge bags of bones for the doggie domainers. The two black ones are confined because the new workers keep leaving the front gate open and off they go. Frida actually ran out but came right back and hasn’t ventured out again, so she gets to roam. Went to buy lights for the doggie room. My friend Dan says I should call it the Bodoga! Ha. (For the non-Spanish-inclined among us, a bodega is a store room, so a bodoga is a storeroom for dogs.
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I am in tears reading reading this lovely poem. We once forgot our cat having hidden at the upper floor. We thought she was out. We were away for 24 hours poor thing
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Cats think they are so clever when they sneak in where they know they are not supposed to be, but sometimes their stealth prompts a sad ending. My husband found the skeleton of a cat in the trailer where he was storing the remains of the equipment for a “food wagon” he’d put together for his ex-wife. The cat had sneaked in while they were loading it up after a lack of success with the enterprise. When we unpacked it three years later to refit it as a trailer to use to take our lamps to arts and crafts shows, we found the bones of the poor cat.
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So sad. Our cat had made a mess under a small carpet but survived because we returned “so quickly” I have never seen such a quick exit from the cat than that moment we came home
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and I hope you didn’t step on the carpet! She was “burying” it, no doubt.
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No we followed the smell and soon found the odd looking carpet
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I think that I hate disappointing the dog as much as he hates disappointing me?
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I know…Heartbreaking when I scold one of the other dogs and Frida always thinks she is the one I’m scolding!!!
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Frida has a new cushy bed–not really a “forgive me” gift. She now also gets to keep sleeping inside because Morrie ate her former bed, which was such a comfy one. I’ll post a pic of her in her new bed…and Morrie in his. He gets one more chance after destroying 4 BEDS SO FAR!!!!! Someone saved the day by reminding me how many Diego destroyed before he finally settled down. We forget.
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I love how your poetry flows. It makes it a lovely feast to explore.
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Thanks, Sam. Hope you come back.
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