The duck and the pigeon met by chance
Stowed away on a boat to France
They hopped a truck parked at the dock
Then drove to Montmartre and on to Chartres
And while they journeyed to Par´e
They each told stories of their families.
Arriving in Paris, they leapt from the truck
The pigeon danced wildly with the waddling duck
What a funny sight these two birds were
Walking the streets, looking in stores
Seeing the dazzling wares galore.
“That hat would make a lovely present
To match my sister’s new-born pheasant
And for my mother I’ll get a pot
She loves to bake and cook a lot.”
“That’s great,” the pigeon did chime in
“My wife will like that shiny pin.
And for my brother I’ll get suspenders
And for my sister, a pair of book enders!”
So off the duck and pigeon strolled
From street to street and boulevard
Admiring everything in sight,
They did this long into the night.
The happy pair had a grand old time
They visited the countryside again and again
To see where grapes were grown and then
Where Van Gogh painted and even Cezanne
Before returning to Par´e
To take a train to the ferry
Where their journey home would begin
Loaded with presents for family and friends.
Find God in funny places; under the bed, under the carpet, in the carport, hanging from the ceiling. Take care where you vacuum. When I first found God hanging from the ceiling I was inclined to call the police. I thought it was suicide, I mean, how often had I heard “God is dead,” and here was living proof, right in front of me. You’d think the light fixture wouldn’t hold him. But he must be light as a feather, because as I untied him he spoke so softly I thought I was imagining it, saying “I am not dead. This is only a test.”
How you sleep, I don’t know you in this sleep, this sleep you sleep so well. While I kiss you, feel the warmth of your cheek, the breath that slowly escapes. I inhale the scent that lightly clings to you after a night’s sleep; the scent that defines you, makes you one with me.
You turn around, your old bones stretch, lean your head against my thigh under the blankets. I have been up for hours. Sleep evades me, echoes of previous days haunt me, dreams of car crashes, waking into sanity/insanity. Night, day, night, day, waiting for what. For sleep. A good night’s sleep, a solid, complete sleep, dawning to a bright beginning.
Not for me. But for you, there, softly pressing your head against me. For you.
Good morning New York.
Too many times I open my eyes and I’m without you again…
You wander around, nose to the ground …I’ve heard it all a million times before. Anticipation. Waiting. The greatest times are out the door, no time to wait, let’s get there straight. Now.
Whoa, what just happened? That sure was fast! Here I am, waiting patiently on the steps for my mistress’ return (what else is there to do all day, yes, well, sleeping, which feels so good…). So I thought to fulfill my household obligations, you know, the watching, herding, protecting aspects (not the cuddling, please…) With that in mind, and a quick bound, or rebound (I missed the first step the first time), I applied myself to the vigilance required for perusing the passing parade beyond the window, waiting, waiting, waiting…
Now waiting and watching are worthy professions from where I come. Thus it was not without some chagrin that I must express my embarrassment at having missed a prime suspect, my reason for being (she hasn’t taught me French) and with hopes, I remain at my post…Adieu!
Tear out the telephone. Then deal with screaming people, complaining, cajoling; you need a phone, we need you to have a phone, its not healthy; what if something happens, what if…
So what if, so what. If I had wings I’d fly. If I had sense I’d put the dog in the car and leave. Leave it all. House, friends, family, bills, taxes, job, no job, just leave. Alone, always alone. Before life, during life, after life.
Now after life. That’s funny. Memories of “before” life? Is today real? Grim. Yesterday is nonexistent. One chance. One breath.
Loved ones, friends, acquaintances, strangers go to war, die. Endless bloodletting in another land. Bloodletting on our streets. Empathy, nonexistent, empty words. Death is benevolent, the last refuge.
Fall into winter. Yes, fall into winter. Not spring ahead, no running here, just falling. Even the swamp won’t let you forget what’s in store. Cold just thinking about it. No wonder the dog wants to stay in bed. Brrrrr… So today he remains quiet without knowing I can speak as well, or well I am that I speak for him for good as he (or not?). Another day, anon, a new photo to take for the morrow.
I’m beleaguered by thoughtlessness. Why, I must be invisible most of the time. Or she only considers me a bed-warmer. No sooner than I hop up on my (her) bed, than she’s stroking me, running her fingers through the fur on my chest (how sensual…), as if I didn’t know she only uses me when she’s cold-no love lost here. Yessiree-bob, I can accommodate her, why not? No one else is running up to bat, hands out, offering a home, hearth and haven.
Heaven knows, heaven sent she may not be, but heavenly is the feeling I get tucked under all those blankets on a cold November night. Wouldn’t you like to snuggle up to someone your own size? Someone to press your body against, bury your head in their neck, take in those pheromones? Oh, oh, you say I’m naughty, inhaling her essence, but forget not, my greatest sense is my nose. Just come a little closer, I know who you’ve been with today…you can’t lie to me…maybe your partner…
Yes, it’s ten minutes to eight, and already her eyelids are drooping…guess I’ll have to pick up another day…
Late swallows, the jaws crashing, crushing, snapping, popping, rise, and hasten upstairs, endless tomorrows, a dog who knows no control, the pooling of saliva,, nauseous with recounting.
Avoidance is not relief. Years have proved that method inadequate.
Change the way you age
the world through books and media
Two sides of God (dog)
Longreads : The best longform stories on the web
A dog and cat in clothing. Puns. Travel. Bacon. Not necessarily in that order.
Unplug, Discover & Recharge
Dogs are animals of integrity. We have much to learn from them.
@DavidTheDogTrainer
Gluten-free recipes, inspired by traditional & international cuisines.
mostly sunny adventures
Tails and Titbits from the house of Pawed
Meet dogs who think, problem-solve, and teach humans a thing or two!
Oslo hunden
Somehow, this all fits together
Notes from the field, essays, and observations.
Exploring and Adventuring since 2013
Just another WordPress.com site
The blog about everything dog
A Day in the Life of a Dog Named Nikita
Art. Photography. Arf.
...and other things I love
....helping dogs by helping people
Merseyside photographer and blogger
All about our truly best friend...
Life with 14 dogs
A community for people who want to solve global problems and set our world free from needless suffering.
The Good, Crazy, & Adorable Life of One Havachon Puppy
When will we ever learn?: Common sense and nonsense about today's public schools in America.
Fotografia.
Vegan & Vegetarian recipes from around the world
Two sides of God (dog)
A Gardening, Outdoor Lifestyle and Organic Food & Drink Blog
Life raising children and chickens in New Hampshire
Adventures of a Maremma dog
Reflections of a Golden Retriever Named Harper Lee
Photography by Quintin Lake
Local cooking and eating in New York's Hudson Valley.
This Blog Is Not Recommended By WordPress
Canine Behavior & Training, Board and Train, Seminars, Private Lessons
Short reviews on high quality films. No spoilers.
Howdy! We're the largest independent bookstore in Texas. This is our blog.
For dog lovers and labrador owners. All furry babies welcome.
It is not what you look at that matters. It's what you see. - Henry David Thoreau
RunningWithEllen's Blog 