Shaggy Dog Story
My Celtic Grandfather bred Irish Wolf Hounds.
He was a stern man, as inflexible as stone,
a hard Ulsterman
wed to a soft Erin woman.
“Never let yourself be alone with the hounds,”
he warned.
Yet I went;
I stole into the garden on an evening
when the sun was falling asleep.
The giant hounds gathered round me
Growling,
then they hunkered down
and discussed among themselves
what to do with me.
The largest of the dogs
told me about the blood wars
and all the ‘troubles’ of this sad land.
I did not understand much of it
but felt the fierceness of his heart.
They found me curled
with the great shaggy beasts
and the only one they would let retrieve me
was my disgraced mother.
Later that day we took the ferry to Liverpool,
then the train to London
where the dogs did not talk,
but where humans often whispered:
“unwanted.”
~~~~
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