June 27, 2012

sea dog

Notes from the Pack - a dog blog. An Irish Wolfhound romps in the sea.

The sea is a hungry dog,
Giant and grey.
He rolls on the beach all day.
With his clashing teeth and shaggy jaws
Hour upon hour he gnaws
The rumbling, tumbling stones, 
And 'Bones, bones, bones, bones! '
The giant sea-dog moans, 
Licking his greasy paws.

And when the night wind roars
And the moon rocks in the stormy cloud, 
He bounds to his feet and snuffs and sniffs, 
Shaking his wet sides over the cliffs, 
And howls and hollos long and loud.

But on quiet days in May or June, 
When even the grasses on the dune
Play no more their reedy tune, 
With his head between his paws
He lies on the sandy shores, 
So quiet, so quiet, he scarcely snores.

- James Reeves

June 21, 2012

June 8, 2012


Notes from the Pack - a dog blog. Stella the Rhodesian Ridgeback in the sun.

The way the dog trots out the front door
every morning
without a hat or an umbrella,
without any money
or the keys to her dog house
never fails to fill the saucer of my heart
with milky admiration.

Who provides a finer example
of a life without encumbrance -
Thoreau in his curtainless hut
with a single plate, a single spoon?
Ghandi with his staff and his holy diapers?

Off she goes into the material world
with nothing but her brown coat
and her modest blue collar,
following only her wet nose,
the twin portals of her steady breathing,
followed only by the plume of her tail.

If only she did not shove the cat aside
every morning
and eat all his food
what a model of self-containment she would be,
what a paragon of earthly detachment.
If only she were not so eager
for a rub behind the ears,
so acrobatic in her welcomes,
if only I were not her god.


June 2, 2012