Tag Archives: bad dogs

The Doggone Doggie Blues: dVerse Poets

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The Doggone Doggie Blues

The naughty dogs who leave their marks when jumping up on me.
The naughty bruises that remain, spreading their stains on me.
I cannot stop this rudeness. I cannot find the means.
I cannot stop their tugging at my blouse sleeves and my jeans.

Unruly little denizens of my humble home,
they range wherever they may choose on terrace and on dome.
They jump up in the hammock when I choose to swing.
They jump up on my visitors to see what they might bring.

They dig into my planters and eat the tasty loam.
They even dig into my sleep to bring their mother home
from dreams where she evades them, living her own life
away from doggie pressures, away from doggie strife.

What pleasures might she find anew living all alone?
What pleasures might they miss for which her conscience would atone?
All in all, they make up for the problems that they bring.
All in all, their lonesome howls to sirens are the thing
that swell her heart and make her want to join along and sing.

I wrote this for the dVerse poets Anaphora/Epiphora prompt, but unfortunately missed the deadline. Been there before, will be there again, no doubt. At any rate, here it is for the world at large!

But, just had a brainstorm and posted it on the dVerse Poets Open Link Night, where we can post any poem on any topic. Tardy but still within the law!. Here is a link to others who published poems for Open Link Night.

What Have You Got in Your Mouth???

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Morrie, what do you have in your mouth?

Oh, okay. Good boy. Fetch!

Diego, what did you have in your mouth?

Oh No! Bad boy! Um. Good boy?

Much as I hate to kill anything—even cockroaches and ants—sometimes your own interests have to win out. After suffering an infestation of rats in my laundry room a few years ago, I guess I can’t object too much to Diego’s efforts to protect his house and property. A few more yards and that rat would have been invading the dog or catfood or worse. They ate through a lidded very durable garbage can before to get to the catfood. R.I.P. little rat.

Succulent Planters: FOTD Oct 10, 2020

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I’ve just raided the garden of my neighbors Brad and Dave (with their permission, and accompanied by their gardener) and filled in some spaces in these two little planters by my Studio. Those spaces, formerly occupied by interesting spiral seashells, were harvested by the dogs who removed them all and made an arrangement out of them on the lawn!  Nope, not bones, boys, but it didn’t stop them from their larcenous ways.

Click on photos to enlarge and read captions.

This Moss rose needed some paler companions.
Thanks, Brad and Dave, for filling in the empty spaces!
What did you do, Morrie?
Did the salt from the seashells make you thirsty, Diego?

For Cee’s FOTD

Feed the Birds?

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Feed the Birds

I‘ve always preferred to see birds feeding off natural sources in my garden: flowers, trees, plants—(please click on first photo below to enlarge the photos and to read the rest of this tale🙂

but recently it occurred to me that the large slab sculpture next to my pool and directly in my line of vision from my computer desk would be an excellent place to scatter seed so I could watch the birds feed there.
Then, my next brainstorm was that the somewhat leafless plumeria tree next to it would be a great place for a hummingbird feeder. I had one that generous housesitters had bought a few years ago but that I rarely filled, so the first step in this plan was to fill and hang the hummingbird feeder,
then to go buy bird seed for my alternate two ton bird feeder!
Morrie was the first to express interest in the project.
Something in that bag of seed interested him,
and he even offered to help me open the bag.
I scattered the seed and retreated to my desk, hoping to see the first birds descend.
But Morrie was especially interested in this new turn of events.
He investigated,
then drew Diego’s attention as well.
Then decided this warranted further investigation.
First a sniff,
then a taste, during which he brushed a few sunflower seeds off onto the stones of the deck.
Diego tried a bit of this strange new food,
sniffed around for more,
then found he had no problem at all reaching the seed up on its original level and soon both seemed to be grazing on bird food!!!
Side view of felon
all too soon, they had exhausted the supply of bird food
as quickly as they had scarfed down their own food fifteen minutes before.
I returned to the pool area to find only this evidence that morrie had ever been there.
But when I returned to the house, the scavengers returned, hoping I’d left more provender.
Morrie, a stubborn little guy, returned to his former feeding place.
I watched from inside the house as Morrie discovered a new potential source of nourishment–the hummingbird feeder! Luckily, it is just out of his reach, but I doubt any hummingbirds will investigate it too closely with him as watchman.
Not quite the feeding frenzy I had expected to watch. Definitely a new species of bird. The End.

In a nutshell: the little dog stands on his hind legs to examine the high stone slab sculpture for evidence of seeds. I’d put them out the morning before for the birds, thinking the three-foot-high stone sculpture placed 20 feet away, but directly in front of my computer table, would be perfect for observing birds. Wrong! Within ten minutes, every single seed was gone–completely eradicated by the vacuum cleaner tongues of Diego and Morrie. On to the next plan! I try again, after having fed the dogs. This is the result. (If you click on the first photo, you can see the photos in a larger form and read the entire story.)

 

 

Frisky Business: Animal Mischief (In Celebration of National Dog Day)

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Frisky Business

My dogs aren’t highfalutin. Don’t compete by size and weight.
All that classy dog shows preach, they repudiate.
Diego never notices where a thrown stick lands,
and neither one’s consistent in following commands.

On stormy days, Morrie’s been known not to chance the rain
to go about his business in the usual terrain.
They’re murderers of  possums. This is no fresh news.
And when six pork chops vanished, I followed all the clues

down to where the evidence lay “hidden” in the yard.
How did six chop bones get there? It wasn’t very hard
to figure out the mystery. Diego was the thief
tall enough to bring about my dinner party grief,

swiping all the main course directly from the pan.
When his master’s back is turned, a dog does what he can.
But at least they are consistent in appearing for their meals.
No dog can only live on the comestibles he steals.

For more frisky business, go HERE or HERE or HERE or HERE! Or HERE, HERE or HERE or HERE! The entire story of the purloined pork chops is HERE, and, if you want it all in a nutshell, THIS ONE pretty much wraps up the whole story of my misbehaving dogs.

Prompt words today are highfalutin, repudiate, consistent and, since none of my other prompt sites has posted a prompt yet and since August 26 is National Dog Day, I’m declaring  my fourth prompt word to be dog!! If you see this and want to play along, just post a link to a photo or poem or anecdote about your dog to this site.

Here is my link for your pingbacks to this site: https://judydykstrabrown.com/2019/08/26/frisky-businessanimal-mischief/

Overdue

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Overdue

My Auntie tends to use me for
those sorts of tasks she must abhor.
Thus was it yesterday that she
sent me to the library.

Just the name of the last book
she’d borrowed was all I took.
This is the message I relayed:
“This book return will be delayed.

I finished it in record time,
and yes, I found the book sublime,
but then I fear it made a hit
with another who’s not through with it.

He found my Inside Daisy Clover
and found the need to chew it over.
I know that it’s a red hot seller.
All the reviews find it stellar.

I know that countless folks have read it,
the borrower’s sheet in front has said it.
In fact, I find the cover worn,
the binding weak, the pages torn.

And so I’d like to buy a new
copy to return to you.
So, just renew the book once more
’til I can get out to the store.

My family member must finish it,
but I fear he’ll diminish it
until it is unheedable.
Already, it’s barely readable.!

The library was most compliant,
and once again, my aunt reliant
on my finding a new book
to replace the one our puppy took!

 

Bad Morrie. Yes, he did pull the drawer out of the dresser all on his own.
and ate the door handles
and two boxes of crayons.
as well as all the books inside it.

The poem is fiction, but the photos depict a true story of when Morrie was a new puppy  a couple of years ago.

The prompt words today are book, extra, renew and delayed. Here are the links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/04/24/rdp-wednesday-book/
FOWC with Fandango — Extra
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/04/24/your-daily-word-prompt-renew-april-24-2019/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/04/24/delayed/

The Dogs Are Barking

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The dVerse Poets prompt requires that we write a quadrille–a poem of 44 words––making use of the word “steep.”  To do so, I rewrote an earlier poem so it became a 5 stanza poem, each stanza forming a quadrille. I wonder how many other poets share this experience as they are awakened from dreams by one means or another:

The Dogs Are Barking

They break the morning––a daily rite.
It’s just a warning. The dogs won’t bite.
Two strangers talk but pass unseen.
I doze, they walk, with a wall between.
I lie here posed between thought and sleep.
My eyes still closed. I’m swimming deep.

I try to sink back into sleep,
once more to drink of waters deep;
but the dogs still bark. They leap and pace.
My dreams, not ready for this morning place,
lie dark and deep and intertwined,
wanting to creep back up my mind.

But its steep slope is much inclined
and provides small hope that I will find
once more that world well out of sight
where truth lies curled, still holding tight––
as an oyster cleaving, loath to unfurl
and reveal to light the priceless pearl

of that mind of dreams that slips the knife
beneath the rind of our daily life.
Time is a brew of present, past
and future, too—all tenses cast
to bring to light those grains of sand
made pearls of wisdom by nature’s hand.

Dreams are stories we tell ourselves
and share, perhaps, on bookstore shelves.
Pinned to pages, they reach their height
and bring our sage self to the light.
But the dogs are barking. They’re hungry, cross.
When I rise feed them, the poem is lost

dVerse Poets Quadrille prompt is steep.

Dogs

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Dogs

Dogs following their masters, close upon their heels.
Dogs waiting under tables, patiently, for meals.
Dogs sitting at attention, or looking for their balls.
Dogs patiently waiting for their masters’ calls.
Dogs upon the sofa, singly or in pairs.
Dogs listening for a certain car, on the carport stairs.
Some dogs travel as luggage. Others stay at home.
When masters get their leashes out, that’s when they get to roam.
Sitting on the rooftop or waiting on the stairs,
some dogs live as singles. Others roam in pairs.
Strolling ‘round the pool or sunning at the beach,
one dog or another is rarely out of reach.
Some dogs simply have to finish what they start.
First it’s just a little tug, but soon things fall apart.
Then they get in trouble for what was meant as fun
That’s why they look so innocent after they are done!
Why were they given teeth at all If they weren’t meant to use them?
It wasn’t their intention, when they started, to abuse them!
Their collars and their leashes incite their excitation
as  harbingers of their favorite form of recreation.
But other types of collars are labelled cones of shame.
Hard for dogs to understand that they are not to blame.
Dogs are made for leaping. Some even look like goats.
Some roam the world au naturel whereas others wear coats.
So many different types of dogs and different types of masters.
But all agree their good points atone for their disasters.

(Click on any photo to enlarge all.)

Then Diego joined the family,
Frida was suspicious

 

For Ragtag’s prompt, “Dog“.

Sound Bites

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Sound Bites

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.

Hurricanes and Volcanos: Videos of a Subtropical Garden

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The combined effect of living above an inland lake surrounded by mountains and being 40 miles from Colima Volcano—one of the most active volcanoes in North America—makes for interesting weather during hurricane season. No wind, but our usually sunny mornings turn overcast and misty.  The air is a bit cooler than usual, and when the volcanically-heated mineral springs empty into my pool and hot tub, it makes for some very atmospheric scenes.  Pasiano was in the process of clipping and cleaning up, getting ready for the lush growth of the rainy season.  Morrie, as usual, made his mark on the occasion. Who could have staged that?  Who would want to?  Hope you enjoy these scenes of my terrace, pool and garden.