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Best Dog Poems

Below are the all-time best Dog poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of dog poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Poems are below...


New Dog Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Dog poems are below this new poems list.

Laughing Dog by Ochwo-Oburu, Solomon
Dog and Man by Sermersheim, David
Lil Dog by Kuriger, Elaine
His Pet Dog Issa by Rigoler, Maurice
The Dog Person by Kanji, Soumyadeep
Dog: Forward or Backward by Missing, Roof
AND GOD GAVE HIM A DOG by Ball, Judy
Dog Dreams by Will, Dave
Homeless Man Moves into Dog Park by Anderson, John
Big Dog by Vinson, Doug

View all new Dog Poems

The Best Dog Poems

 
Details | Dog Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Dogs and Cats

In my life, I’ve had about five . . . . . . . . . . . DOGS

What naughty chewing little beasts they . . . ARE

Nonetheless, I still think they are . . . . . . . . .COOL;

However, I’ve had twice as many . . . . . . . .. CATS

Independent, sweet and clean they usually . . ARE

For that, I find  cats to be just a tad bit. . . .  COOLER


Written Aug. 2015 for the "End Line Word" Poetry contest of HGarvey Daniel Esquire




Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015

Details | Dog Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Lassie

I stand before you after all these years
Amid the ocean brine with misty tears
On these old banks above the Fundy Bay
With all those words I never got to say

Wild daisies spread themselves across your grave
Where lies the fallen marker that I made
When I was but a child and new to  death
In grief so deep it nearly took  my breath

That broken house still sits above the bay
Now weathered by those many stormy days
Those years we walked along that rocky shore
Those years you saw me safely to my door 

And now that I am old I do believe
You were an angel sent by God to me   

                      ...

In Loving Memory

Written:  February 2nd, 2016
by:  Elaine Cecelia George, of Canada


Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2016

Details | Dog Poem | Create an image from this poem.

My Dog

Every time you look at me
Brown eyes say, "I love you"
When you're lying next to me
Your snuggle says it too

That soft brown skin's inviting smell
I pull you to me tighter
I hope you know, somehow can tell
You make my days much brighter

So playfully, you steal a kiss
Like a child, I wipe my face
What have I done to feel such bliss
This gift of "amazing grace"

Each day you show me in some way
The meaning of true love
For you my friend, each night I pray
And thank The Lord above.

    

            for my dog friend, Buddy:)
       by Daniel Turner




Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2017

Details | Dog Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The Oscar Wiener Dog

A dachshund named Oscar was he, which adored trick or treating with me, so I had me some fun when I sewed a cloth bun, for a Halloween weenie he’d be. On his costume I added a trim mustard yellow, but though he’s not slim, he’s no Oscar Mayer, so don’t raise his ire by taking a bite out of him! For the Dachshunds contest of Rob Carmake(oops, that was CarMACK. haha)


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015

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An Evening with Snickers

Off his leash, he escapes, diving under a chair. Through each room of our house, he darts here; he darts there. Little scamp can’t be caught. He careens crazily. For his collar I reach, but he dashes from me. To his food dish he goes, Ah! My time has now come. He is back on the leash and unable to run. I know our puppy will calm down in time. We find his toys and bones he likes to bite. We gently rub his tummy as he lies beside us with the coming of the night. Lullaby, Doggie. Lay down your head. Sweet dreams for our Snickers asleep on our bed. for the Contest: Rock Me Around the Clock or Rock Me to Sleep-- Rhythm Poems


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015

Details | Dog Poem | Create an image from this poem.

- On The Moon -

Thea, grandfather Alferd's dog died, she was so old and sick
Now is Thea on the moon, says Adrian who is six

Michael Jackson died so unexpectedly and abruptly
He is on the moon and plays with Thea, says Adrian who is a big fan

Betzy, grandfather Arild's dog died, she was also old and sick
Now Betzy is also on the moon with Thea and Michael Jackson and play all day

Great Grandmother died so unexpectedly and abruptly
Adrian who is six had difficulty understanding

Adrian who is six cried many tears for Great Grandmother
but comforted himself with the fact that she is sitting on the moon and
makes waffles to Thea, Michael Jackson and Betzy




04.11.2012
A-L Andresen :)  - A true story -
Copyright © All Rights Reserved


Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2012

Details | Dog Poem | Create an image from this poem.

A Dog Gone Tableau

“You become responsible forever for what you’ve tamed.” from Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s The Little Prince Though he yapped and whined, I still loved him so. He was my dear friend. He'd turned old and blind when we let him go. How can my heart mend? Written 10/15/14 by Andrea Dietrich For the Design Your Tableau Contest of nette onclaud


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014

Details | Dog Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Playing Enthusiastically


                                              Playmates illusion
                                       Feline stretches on its back
                                              Pup engages play
                                       Leaps into air with surprise
                                    Scratched nose, engages again

                                         By Eve Roper 11/20/2014


Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2014

Details | Dog Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Fickle-Foolish-Footles - Man's Best Friend

Overweight Terrier:
   Porky
   Yorkie
Un-cool Terrier:
   Dorky
   Yorkie

Spaniel dog breeder:
   Cocker
   Stocker
Parrot who mimics a Spaniel's bark:
   Cocker
   Mocker
Book on how to care for Cockers:
   Spaniel
   Manuel
Originally from England, a well-rounded Spaniel stays in shape by playing:
   Cocker
   Soccer
Then showers and dresses by its:
   Cocker
   Locker

Dachshund headgear:
   Weenie
   Beenie
Grouchy Dachshund:
   Meany
   Weenie
Proportionally, male Dachshunds have:
   Teenie
   Weenies
(But size isn't everything)
Dachshund making critcal life choices:
   Eenie
   Weenie...

Lassie was a level-headed dog and never engaged in:
   Collie
   Folly
Reared in a loving environnment, she was a rather:
   Jolly
   Collie
Bred in the capitol city of NC, making her a:
   Raleigh
   Collie
To commemorate her frequent (and often rowdy) visits to N.O. a streetcar was renamed the:
   Collie
   Trolley

Snoopy immigrated to the States but alas, was found not to be a:
   Legal
   Beagle
Thus he was deported back to England but was promptly knighted by the Queen becoming a:
   Regal
   Beagle
Now a celebrity, he even had an entourage of nubile young female beagles named:
   Snoopy's
   Groupies
Eventually, he met his soul mate, married her in Westminster Abbey and it is rumored that they engaged in numerous and somewhat kinky sessions of:
    Snoopy
    Whoopie




Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dog Poem | Create an image from this poem.

My Saddest Day -A Dog Gone Tableau

My Saddest Day(A Dog Gone Tableau) 

I Had to leave him
(though he yapped and whined)
at the adoption drop off,
(I still loved him so)
with folks that I'd entrusted
(he was my dear friend)
with his safe keeping.
(He'd turned old and blind)

His mournful howl followed me
(when we let him go.)
as i exited the door
(How can my heart mend?)

My two poems for the Intermingle Contest of Craig Cornish: 
My Saddest Day, written a while earlier than actually posted on 9/21/2014
& A Dog Gone Tableau, posted 10/17/2014 a few days after I wrote it.
By Andrea Dietrich

(The idea for what to use was inspired by my wonderful friend, Harry Horsman)


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015

Details | Dog Poem | Create an image from this poem.

His Old Pick-Up Truck

He begs me to come, but he's run out of luck You won't catch me dead in that beat-up old truck! It was painted blue...now the color is rust But you can't be too sure...since it's covered in dust!... The engine must idle, (about an hour is good) You can feel the vibration, around the whole neighborhood A life is at risk, if you go for a ride! The windshield is broken, and leaks rain inside It makes a weird noise, rides bumpy and rough The dashboard is littered and covered with "stuff" The seat cushion's torn, and it pokes at my rear The dog sits beside us and licks at my ear There's no place below us, for resting my feet There's a hole in the floor, O my God, there's the street!!! The windows don't close, so there's more than a breeze Wrappers from Twinkies, a Burger King box... One lonely old sneaker, and smelly old socks Half a stale donut smashed down on the floor Darn!! The dog beat me to it, and is looking for more!! The muffler is loose, you can see the sparks fly Dirty looks from the folks, who get smoke in their eyes When we drive by the neighbors, I duck my head and I hide I'm no Prima Donna....but I've still got some pride!! He loves that old truck, he calls her a gem! Make him choose between us??? ....I'd be out on a limb!!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------- For Verlena Walker's Slamming Battle Contest


Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2008

Details | Dog Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Companion

The old man sits in his chair by the door
His dog lies beside him curled up on the floor
Ever since that day when the man lost his wife
that dog had, to him, been the whole of his life

With his constant companion through all those long days
he'd sit in the sun enjoying its rays
It seemed like for hours the old man had dozed
A faint smile on his face and his eyes tightly closed

The dog licks his hand and emits a faint whine
and looks up at his face as if for a sign
but the man doesn't move, just continues to smile
so the dog lays back down on the floor for a while

The dog gets its ball, lays it down at his feet
but the man takes no notice, just stays still in his seat
He nudges the ball as if he were saying
"What's wrong with you, why aren't you playing"

Then, as if in acceptance, the dog quietly sighs
and looks up one last time with adoring eyes
The dog keeps his vigil through the night 'til next day
ever since, that sad morning, when the man passed away 


Copyright © Rob Biden | Year Posted 2014

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A New Girl

The kindly old man, had become irritable
Over the death of his wife
Not one iota of happiness left
Those golden years, ripped from his life
She had been, an excellent, engineer
Keeping everything in order
He had learned, to appreciate, her generous ways
Tried to always, be genial, toward her
A knock at the door, caught him off guard
Since no one ever came by
He opened the door, to a noisy orange box
When a puppy lit up his eyes
Admiring the dog, he first thought how costly
This kink was simply absurd
It emits, those whimpering, puppy cries
He comforts, with baby talk words
Holding it close, a kiss on his cheek
His heart melts, as he takes her inside
He's caught a new girl, names her Iris
For the flowers his wife romanticized
First visit to the vet, to have her checked out
She immediately chases a cat
The smiling old man, gathers her in
Softly gives her head a love pat



       an original poem by Daniel Turner



Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2016

Details | Dog Poem | Create an image from this poem.

I Didn't Do My Math Homework

I didn’t do my math homework!
I watched T.V instead!
I better come up with an excuse... and quick!
Or else I’m surely dead!

My brother tore it!
It’s in the garbage!
Mom says it causes brain damage!

My power was out!
I had the flu!
I was having trouble excreting my poo!

You know, why even bother?
My excuses are so lame!
I know! My dog ate my homework!
Now to find a dog I can blame...


Copyright © Jacob Cra | Year Posted 2012

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My Puppy

My puppy sure loves to lick me
He thinks I’m a lollypop.
Every time I get home he attacks me
Then kisses me nonstop.

You’d think I was gone forever
When I just left the house for the mail,
He is right at the door when I get back
With a rapidly wiggling tail.

He wants to eat everything I do,
Mom says, that’s not good for a dog.
We want to keep him fit and healthy
So daily we go for a jog.

My toys are all tattered and ragged
My socks are his ultimate aim,
Doesn’t matter how much it upsets us
He thinks it’s all some kind of game.

I know he’s a bit of a stinker
That always wants to be fed.
But I sure am in love with my puppy,
Every night when we cuddle in bed.

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
2012


Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

Details | Dog Poem | Create an image from this poem.

If Children Were Puppies

                                                IF MY
                                            CHILDREN
                                         WERE PUPPIES
                                            THEY’D BE
                                               NICER
                                                  TO
                                                  ME.
                                THEY WOULD NOT BE FUSSY
                        AND            TALK BACK YOU            SEE.                       
                       SIT             BRAVE AND LOYAL           NOT                        
                       TRY             TO RUN AND HIDE.           AND
                                        FAITHFULLY  FOLLOW
                                           NEVER LEAVING
                                            MY SIDE. BUT
                                            IF CHILDREN
                                             WERE PUPS
                                              THEN THEY
                                              MIGHT EAT
                                             LIKE    HOGS
                                            CHEW    YOUR 
                                          GOOD        SHOE   
                                 MAYBE HIDE         YOUR CLOGS
 	    AND IF CHILDREN WERE PUPPIES, THEN WE’D ALL BE DOGS!

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
12.02.2012


Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

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Sonnet Chiweenie Boo

Your dad, a Dachshund once stuck in Chihuahua.
The best of both in you, with that expectant
Confusing carpets for the lawn enigma.
I know….the raining….getting wet….you can’t.

As coldness chills the room, a sheet for you.
The perfect tucking of in, but you moved!
I ponder, just how crazy is my Boo?
The sheet’s thread count too low to be approved?

Your dance in circles, spinning on the floor.
Rewards and treasures known upon the racks.
Induced by meals and that one pantry door.   
In such a fury, choking on the snacks.

I know what God’s book says, I’ve searched it whole.
But still, I hope you have a little soul.

11.14.14


Copyright © rob carmack | Year Posted 2014

Details | Dog Poem | Create an image from this poem.

My Saddest Day

I had to leave him

at the adoption drop-off

of the place I’d entrusted

with his safe-keeping. . .

    his mournful howl followed me

    as I exited the door


9/20/14
For the Choka Contest of Dr. Ram Mehta
Form: 5/7/7/5/7/7


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014

Details | Dog Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Lucky at Home

You’d think a dog named Lucky,
Would lead a decent life.
But Lucky had his troubles,
And they followed day and night.

One day Lucky ran away
In search of greener pastures.
Just to find a field ablaze,
Thus the start of his disasters.

Although Lucky didn’t die that day
And no limbs or parts were broken,
Lucky smelled of smoldered hair
And you’d swear he kept on smokin!

And Lucky liked to chase the cars,
Till the day he lost his nerve
When Lucky met a big ‘ol bus
That couldn’t stop or swerve.

I’m not sure just how it hit him
Or how he’s here today.
But he’s never walked straight since,
And one eye veers away.

My Lucky always clashed with cats
And was leery of their paws.
Until a “Tom” of forty pounds
Let Lucky feel his jaws.

Hair and fur balls filled the air
Like Cottonwoods a bloomin.
Poor ‘ol Lucky lost an ear,
And now looks twice as stupid.

I confess, I named him wrong
And why he stays, I’ll never know.
I guess that I’m the lucky one,
To have Lucky here at home.


Copyright © Tom Valles | Year Posted 2014

Details | Dog Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow

Yesterday I was a baby on the farm
Precious being held in Mommy’s arms
Yesterday I said I was Daddy’s “kecaw”
And, smiling, I was my mother’s “doll”

Yesterday I was a little girl playing
Out in the grass where my dog was staying
We – he and I – would share the precious moments
The brown Collie-Spitz dog would follow where I went

Yesterday I played with my brother at night
In the clover with lightning bug’s flashing lights
Placing them in a jar with hole punched in lid
Watching them flash their mystery that was hid

Yesterday I watched as the men cut the hay
Piling stacks during the high heat of the day
The men would work hard but laugh with happiness
Sweating as they went about their busy-ness

Yesterday I picked big, juicy blackberries 
While June bugs buzzed around my head all merry
O’er in the field far out of sight time I’d spend
As Goldenrod and Queen Ann’s Lace waved in the wind—

Yesterday farmer’s gathered to share work
While wives prepared steaming hot meals with no shirk
Tobacco cutting was hard labor to yield
Tobacco in barn meant money from the fields

Yesterday just before twilight fell to earth
Little sister and I walked through fields with mirth
We brought the cows to the barn as our habit
We laughed and sang as our dog chased the rabbits

O’er in western sky where dreams lie far away
The brilliance of gold and red were quietly sprayed
God’s had dipped His paintbrush into His vast supply
Displaying His beauty in love not denied

Yesterday’s chores were laborious and hard
Without fancy motors or pollutants to mar,
But with Betty and Billy pulling the implements
Somehow their nearness gave natural presence

Yesterday I became a young girl tall and skinny
Old enough to do chores and there were many;
Carried three buckets of water for the night
All day I starched and ironed clothes to look just right

Yesterday within my minds’ eye sees the past
It s’ amazing how bits and pieces seem to last
Good and painful surface then regress
Down life’s road whenever -- wherever; I’m blessed

Today’s tomorrow will become yesterday
Stacked days upon days filed deep and far away
Stored within recesses of God’s fine array—
There for retrieval in tomorrow’s someday

               -Evelyn Pearl (Carpenter) Anderson               

Note:  “kecaw” was cushaw.


Copyright © E. Pearl Anderson | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dog Poem | Create an image from this poem.

He's Just a Dog

He’s just a dog, a mongrel pup that fitted in me hand,
short haired, tan and white, with needs of high demand,
he’s whingy and he’s whiny, I s’pose he misses Mum,
but now his Mum and Dad are what me wife and I become.

And the recommending is that we must take him to the vet,
to have all his virus shots with rates that put us into debt,
we had to have him micro-chipped in case of getting lost,
and then de-sexing and to register all added to the cost.

We made a fuss of him and spoilt him rotten to the core,
even after peeing on the carpet on the lounge room floor,
we fed him ‘smackos’, munchies, and tins of high-class meat,
and let him lick our plates for a special little treat.

We knew we shouldn’t feed him sitting at the dinner table,
but when those eyes stared through me, I just wasn’t able
to ignore the little blighter who was pleading for a crust,
and of course I’m feeling guilty, so ignoring is unjust.

He mightn’t talk, but body language gets his tale across,
by demanding his intentions with a bark “I am the boss!”
That can mean our double bed, becomes one of his beds,
it’s a God given right to scratch a pillow into shreds.

He’s just a dog, but as he grew from pup to fully grown,
there are more human aspects that our little dog has shown.
He’s believing in his own mind, we are not his Dad and Mum,
because now he is the King, and slaves we’re now become.

Dogs shouldn’t have to take a bath; a chain should be denied,
and a dog definitely should never have to sleep outside,
to prove his point before its dawn our actions are defied,
he’s barking at the back door demanding to be let inside.

He’s just a dog with habits that does reimburse our training,
he licks his bum and then me face, and thinks it’s entertaining,
then rubs his bum along the carpet, so we have to come to terms,
that we have to medicate him… ‘oh my God it’s bloody worms!’

The more we tried to train him, then the more he’s training us,
for he always gets his own way when he’s kicking up a fuss,
his wicker chair and blanket are for him and him alone,
and every week on shopping day he gets a king size bone.

And doesn’t he love visitors; it’s all ‘welcome to my joint,’
wagging tail and somersaults, but to get more to the point,
if he can’t grab the sole attention when he sits up and begs,
then it becomes acceptable to go humping people’s legs.

It took him very little time to claim the television set,
he’s the closest to the heater, and he does get quite upset
if we don’t take him in the car… and now when being fed,
he’s expecting us to feed him, his brekkie in our bed.

The house is rearranged these days to suit his every need,
each day by his insistence he is walked upon the lead,
we bow to all his wishes, to his commands and dialogue,
but for anyone who drops in… they only see a bloody dog.


Copyright © Lindsay Laurie | Year Posted 2014

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HEY DIDDLE DIDDLE, WHAT'S THE RIDDLE?

HEY DIDDLE, why the Cat and the fiddle
And the Cow that jumped over the moon? 
Why they're all here in Nursery Rhyme land
At the wedding of the Dish and the Spoon.
The Little Dog is happy,The Cat is playing a tune
And soon the Dish and the Spoon will go hand in hand
Off on their honeymoon.
The guests include OLD KING COLE
And HUMPTY DUMPTY who sat on a wall
Though he's being very careful today-
Doesn't want to spoil things by having a fall.
MARY MARY QUITE CONTRARY
Has left her garden behind
And come along with LITTLE BO-PEEP
With all her sheep to mind.
SIMPLE SIMON has come with the Pieman
Because they're preparing the food.
And LITTLE JACK HORNER wont sit in the corner
Thinks it might be rather rude.
JACK SPRAT AND HIS WIFE have come for the feasting .
So has THE OLD WOMAN WHO LIVED IN A SHOE,
And OLD MOTHER HUBBARD hopes something left for the cupboard
And her poor dog who's at home with the flu.
WEE WILLIE WINKIE has changed out of his nightshirt
And dressed up in his sunday best,
But he'll have to leave early to check on the children
To make sure that they're all at rest.
LITTLE TOMMY TUCKER wont need to sing for his supper.
GEORGIE PORGIE said he wont make anyone cry.
And  JACK AND JILL have brought some lemonade in their bucket
In case some of the guests get dry.
DOCTOR FOSTER returned from Gloucester-
Says he hopes it doesn't rain
But he's brought his umbrella just in case
Doesn't want to get caught out again!
THE CROOKED MAN although he's bent double
Said he's determined to dance,
His partner is BETTY BLUE who lost her shoe
Then happened to find it by chance-
Well these are just some of the wedding guests
Travelled from far and wide
That have come along to celebrate with
The proud groom and his dish of a bride....
So now you know what's going on
With the Cat and the fiddle and the COW that jumped over the moon.
And why the Little Dog laughed to see such fun
All because the Dish fell in love with the SPOON.


Copyright © SYLVIA Coulstock | Year Posted 2010

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- Haiku X 72 - Dog, Poop And Snow -


Behavior perfect
Deep cold snow how can she poop
My small dog Kissy

If my dog could talk
I try to understand her
She drown in the snow







18.01.2016
A-L Andresen :)


Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2016

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One Thing That Love Is

Everything here is true
Just as stated
because it's already happened
or - it has yet to occur - 
but it's very soon to occur
and I have such strong feeling
that the future will be as I see it
as you read this
that in the end I will be proven right.
You are that occurrence
you are happening
and I think you will understand.

Love is a dog
on a chain
in a muddy yard
on a cold day
in a silent town
where the land slopes
down to a river.

It's the end of autumn
or the beginning of winter
and the silence is tidal
total
and you know that things are not right
under the sky of hard iron
between all the old buildings
of red faded brick
that were made when labor and materials were cheap.

Big old buildings all squares and rectangles
former warehouses
tenements that saw many families
hotels of a prior age
offices where she used to work
where he ran the elevator
where they came and went
but now nobody is walking
no vehicles move on the streets
it was just me.

And the dog.

There is more about the place
it could have been in a movie
with the camera panning around
capturing aspects of vertigo and dread
a province of scary infirmity
that makes you think
you are dreaming
because you've had dreams before
and you've seen horror movies before
but you know there's no such escape
not a dream not a movie
and the dog is real.
Lonely. Thirsty. Hungry. Cold.

It wasn't always that way
not the dog
not the town.
Long ago the Continental Army
was headquartered here
in the American Revolution
and the city thrived
into the future
lots of transportation
and manufacturing
through the 1800s
but then river traffic fell to almost nothing
railroads and trucks took over
companies and people moved south and overseas
and the town grew quiet.

Now it's the cold season
the silence of an endless cold season
almost monochromatic under that iron sky
all black and white or in-between
except for the fading red 
of the bricks in those big old buildings.

This is where the owners
love the dog part of the time.

This is where a pigeon steps 
on a little discarded plastic ring 
from a jug of milk
and the ring stands up
above the ground
where a cold wind blows torn candy wrappers around your feet
near the chain link fences
the dirty concrete with moss growing in the cracks
where branches show against the sky
from dark tree trunks
by the wrought metal fence
that has caught a plastic bag
that was blown by the wind.

The silence.

You feel the lack
the absence of bird calls
coming down in rivulets and chips of silver
showing they are alive.
It's not to be this day
the silence holds sway
life seems more of an echo.
Any faint smile
of the sun
shows false in the shadows.

The dog didn't make a sound either.

I'm tempted to end right here
but no
we haven't really gotten to the love part yet.
Sure - maybe they loved the dog some
maybe the owner was sick or old
or just couldn't care for it much anymore
or they had grown up and moved away
while the dog remained.

Long ago there was the Telephone Company of New York
and through buyouts, governmentally enforced divestitures, and mergers 
it later became Metropolitan Telephone and Telegraph Company
then American Bell Telephone Company
New York Telephone
NYNEX
Bell Atlantic
and now we know it as Verizon.

The dog was real.

The town is Newburgh, New York, USA
and it does slope down to a river
the Hudson River
and the old buildings
latent
waiting
bear witness.

I was there in the late 1990s
when it was called NYNEX and then Bell Atlantic.
The old telephone building still had the places
where the switchboard operators 
would sit with earphones on
listening to call requests, or
they manually plugged in wires
to connect incoming calls
with house telephones
in the local exchange.
A light would glow
on the bottom row
of their array
and they'd connect a wire
from the plug-in hole by the light
to number 0313 for example
if that was the number in the exchange
that the caller wanted.

The materials were beautiful
all the hardwoods
fiber, metal and cloth
high-quality stuff
that hadn't been used since 
the late 1960s.
The lattices were still there
the wire pairs
for each number
ten thousand at a time
i.e. 0000 to 9999
those wire pairs
had their brackets
from where they went all the way to people's houses
the hard wired connection.

You're with me now
there's nobody else
nobody from the telephone company
and I have the door code for the electronic lock.

We exit the building
and the dog is looking at us
from the lonely cold muddy yard 
behind the next old rectangle of faded red bricks
there is something there
not much
not real hope
but dark eyes upon us
some wonder some... something...
no sound.

The dog never makes a sound.
You see one of the shames of my life.

I go over to my truck and drive away.

It wasn't that the dog just couldn't make a sound.
It didn't quickly raise its head
it didn't jump up or
come toward me 
as far as the chain would let it
or at least tilt its head
questioningly
as if I might present some hope.

There is love
but it was so far away from that dog
that all was silent
the most terrible silence.

So now I'm a 57 year old man
sitting here crying because I could have gotten that dog a good home
or I could have called somebody who would do that
you should see me crying
or I could have just called somebody
or I could have gotten that dog something good to eat
and some water
oh dog I'm sorry
I could have knocked on the door 
and asked about the dog
and offered to help
you should see me crying I'm a mess
I could have gone over
and hugged the dog
and said oh dog
it's okay
you're a good dog


Copyright © Doug Vinson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Dog Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The Stray

There was a little dog one day,
Who ambled on his aimless way.
He didn't have a house or home:
A doggy bed or fine meat bone.

His coat was mats and full of fleas.
He owned no boy to try and please.
Near garbage bin was where he sat,
Along with one sad, homeless cat.

His human threw him out you see.
This person wasn't you or me.
For we would never be so cruel,
Or act like some poor, heartless fool.

The winter came and with it cold.
Dog's airy ways were put on hold.
He shivered in the dark of night:
A sad, pathetic, needy sight.

And then a storm blew in with snow.
It left dog with no place to go.
He sat and whined beside the road,
For someone kind to lift his load.

Then came a car -- slow passing by.
A young boy warm and loved inside.
He saw the freezing, half grown pup 
And begged they stop and pick him up.

The winter passed and next the spring.
Now please behold a wondrous thing.
A boy and dog romp on the grass.
All mats and fleas now in the past.

It's joy and love and fun we see. 
The way that God meant it should be.
Both run and play, all pain now past;
This bond of dog and boy shall last.

The sad thing is allotted time
Of man and dog will just not rhyme.
The boy will know sad loss of friend,
Long years before his own sure end.

Then in a time that's yet to be,
They'll reunite both young and free.
Forever will their bond go on,
In timeless sunsets, countless dawns.


© 2015 Diane Lefebvre


Copyright © Diane Lefebvre | Year Posted 2015