Bark of dog, Meow of cat. Mama-san takes care of that with pop of can and clink of dishes. After solving all these wishes, back to bed. Write my blogs. Out of bed. Put on togs. Make a smoothie. Read E-mail. Into town for writers’ meetings. Lots of words and lots of greetings. Home again to write some more. Pepe’s ringing at my door. Once a week a heavenly rub. Body restored, soak in the tub. Pat the cats, throw balls for Morrie. Write some more, the same old story. Talk to Dux many a time throughout the day. Sometimes with rhyme. Midnight finds me in the pool under stars and Morrie’s rule. Throw the ball for him to fetch. Exercise, then reach and stretch to retrieve the ball he throws at me. Then loft it over bush and tree to lower garden for him to find. This is our nightly pool grind. Go in to bed to write some more. Get up to check I’ve locked the door. Other events often occur. Trips to the vet to trim or cure. Coffee with friends, or dinner out. trips to the shore, without a doubt. Lives grow and change often with time. So this is just the paradigm.
Three dogs, paws up on the gate to the garage whenever I get home. The little one leaps up and down like some ballerina at the bar, the biggest with his irritating barks–loud and harsh and insistent—for whatever reason, be it mom’s arrival home or a dog who dares to pass by in the street. All of them escorting me to the door, attempting to help me with my bags and bundles.
The big dog sneaking into my room at night when she thinks I haven’t noticed. Wanting to be even closer than within eye-shot down the hall, she sleeps on the cold floor in lieu of her warm padded bed, perhaps because she wants to remind me that although the second dog is cleverer and handsomer and the newest dog is the littlest and most pleasant to have jump up on the bed with me, she was the very first and has known me for the longest. She has put up with intruders—both these two canine upstarts and the one human one who entered my house and stole my house guest’s laptop years ago when she was my one and only!
And although I am allergic to them, I wash off the licks of thanks that Morrie gives for a few cuddles on the bed before he sinks down to the foot to curl at a more hypoallergenic distance. Wash off my hands and arms after I’ve pulled off clumps of Frida’s thick undercoat. Dress the wounds that Diego’s claws have left on my legs and arms when he just can’t resist jumping up for closer contact. All of these wounds and welts and sneezes and wheezes just the aftermath of the constant thanks these kids adopted from the streets offer every day, as often as I will allow them.
This is a reblog from three years ago when we were a three-dog one-cat family instead of a two-dog five-cat family! R.I.P. Frida. The prompt today is allergic.
When the daylight takes its bite eating up the dark of night I begin my daily rite of finding all the words to cite that serve to bring my thoughts to light.
I write and write and write and write– filling up my blogging site until my dogs begin to fight, and finally I know it’s quite necessary to do what’s right.
And this is when I find I might secure my laptop lid up tight and give my brain a small respite. It is my second day’s delight for they have tried to be polite
lest they disturb me or incite words that in my haste are trite. With open door, I then invite their appetites—now at their height. Each jumps and spins–high as a kite, and comes to have his morning bite.
Eight of us are at a writing retreat in Puerto Vallarta so I’ll soon be doing writing to a different prompt. In the meantime, this is a rewrite of a poem written 3 years ago. The prompt today is bite.
When I wrote the “Underdog” poem this morning, I though Morrie would be a natural to illustrate it. If you have read that blog, you already know I had to use a stand-in. The photos below will explain why. I recruited a friend to help. We went through a dozen dog treats. This result is the photos below that I took out of my dead photo file to share. Lucky you! See the poem I was trying to illustrate HERE.
These don’t fit very well, Mom.
Nope. Not standing still for alterations!
Another dog treat might help.
Something seems to be slipping.
And I have a strange feeling on my tail.
A sort of heavy sensation
Are you sure other Superheroes are able to keep these things on?
Okay, now here are this week’s questions formulated by Cee, the mother of this challenge:
If you were having difficulty on an important test and could safely cheat by looking at someone else’s paper, would you do so? No
What things in nature do you find most beautiful? Insects, trees, flowers, birds, unusual details, angles and juxtapositions. Clouds.
Complete this sentence: When I travel I love to…watch people.
What inspired you or what did you appreciate this past week? As usual, the WordPress prompt inspired me. Today it was “Underdog” which I somehow transformed into “Underweardog” Nearly.
Whether at home with brother Diego or meeting new friends at the beach, Morrie is definitely a water dog. Once mom put the steps in the pool, it made it even easier to exit. He liked all the new scents at the beach—from babies to bottoms. Oh, Morrie.