Lament For Simon

Once my neighbor asked of me would I, for a modest fee, tend his dog? “It won’t be hard; he will stay in our backyard. We’ll be gone a week or so and be back before you know. Here’s his leash and dog food, too. This is all you need to do: feed and walk him once a day; he won’t try to run away. Just around the block’s enough. If he tries to play too rough, grabs your shoe and will not drop it, just say ’no’, and he’ll stop it. I am awfully grateful to you. If a favor I can do you, be it big or be it small, all you have to do is call. Have you got it? Okay, then, see you soon, and thanks again.” Simon, Simon, canine breed, is that really all you need— just a walk, a bowl of food? All day long in solitude there you wait. What do you do till I come to care for you? Do you dream of females fair, long to take the mountain air? Do you wonder why you’re living— what you’re getting, what you’re giving? How you frolic when I’m there! When I leave, do you despair— feel unloved, neglected, blue? I imagine that you do. One half hour company— that is not enough for me. I’m a person— you’re a dog. Still, we have a dialogue— animals of different name— are we not a bit the same? ~ Harley White * * * * * * * * * Written for a neighbor of mine many years ago, after I took care of his red setter, Simon, for two weeks…