Best Petsold Poems
I had a little bunny fair
Who loved no one but me.
I hardly thought a fox would dare
To do such knavery.
I built my pet a darling hutch,
To save him from all harm,
Not knowing that a sly old fox
Would soon invade the farm.
We lived and laughed the whole day through
My darling hare and I.
Without a thought of that old fox
And danger coming nigh.
I had no knowledge that a fox
Could slyly lift the latch.
And grab my bunny from his home,
For fox he was no match.
I know that fox is laughing still
My tears are falling fast.
I long to hold my pet again
Reliving days now past.
for PD’s contest
"My word," said the cat,"you certainly do stink.
Methinks water's for bathing, not just to drink!"
"Retract those sharp claws," the dog stifled a yawn,
"I get plenty clean when I roll on the lawn."
"So much for you dogs having a great sense of smell,"
cat wrinkled his nose and whipped his long tail,
"now you just stink like the hinges of Hell."
"Get lost," snarled the dog, "with your sense of perfection,
"you only act sweet when you want some affection."
"At least they can kiss me," the old cat purred,
"without holding their noses since you smell like a turd."
"I am Man's Best Friend," the dog said with great pride,
"and I got that way by not being so snide."
"YOU'RE Man's best friend?" the cat said with a hoot,
"I feel sorry for Man, if that is the truth!"
"Don't make me get up," the old dog growled,
"I'll tear off your head," his eyes looking wild.
"I have speed for protection,"
he stretched with feline perfection,
"and as I go now, I fart
in your general direction."
©Danielle White
Damn old worthless dog. How lazy he lies
in shade on my porch, by my rocking-chair.
Good but for flea food or a perch for flies
too old to bark at a wild hog or hare.
He’s fast asleep with one half open eye
as if to protect me, like he still could.
His old body sore and I know that I
(for his old age) must put him down for good.
Like a thank you for nothing, same as a
gentle pat on the head. A gift to guard
him from pain, to cut short his days so they
won’t be his burden. My sympathy charred
and heart destroyed, to give my old pal this
reward, this kindness, this murderous kiss.
Tom Thumb, with split ears and abscess,
came to us on an autumn night.
A feline atlas with alley hard shoulders,
but a calm, cool warrior nonetheless.
Named for his Hemingway mittens,
an irony of bulk to literary lore,
for he surely would make a short meal
of a murine steed fit for a King’s jester.
His years of wrangling had earned him,
A craggy pelt of scars under a crooked halo,
all wrapped up in a ripe orange hirsute fleece.
There was something about that gnarled old pumpkin,
that found our hearts warm and happy to have him.
Though his life had been hard, he was quick to find
my Mother’s lap to be a very restful place.
Dear Tom spent the better part of a decade in our home.
The years of ease softened his shoulders,
and hastened his purr, though he still had *****.
The leaves of autumn learned to be weary of old Tom,
for he would shred on sight, the first leaf to fall.
As the years passed, the warmth of the sun,
found more often, Tom sitting with closed eyes,
enjoying the feel of his crimson fur.
Until an afternoon, late in the harvest season,
poor old Tom had been sick.
He sat proud in the sun for one last long sun bath,
warm as our hearts between his apricot strips.
Bast came for her brother the very next day,
to fetch him off to the land that never forgets.
“Fare-the-well dear Tom and may the autumn leaves,
suffer your claws for as long as the sun never sets.”
Today, our cat spent some time with the vet for his prognostication.
It had been a couple of years or so since Simba's last examination.
Simba had no say in the matter due to our paucity of conversation.
As I coaxed him into his carrying cage, he howled in desperation!
The vet and staff look forward to Simba's visit with little anticipation!
He gets rather grumpy at the vets, exhibiting aggressive agitation!
Hence, for examinations he must be placed under very heavy sedation;
Only then can the veterinarian proceed to practice his vocation!
His eyes, ears, nose and throat were fine including his respiration.
There was no evidence of fleas or any problems with his urination.
The old fella has only 16 of 28 teeth due to a previous operation,
But no matter, he eats like an army mule in handling mastication!
For his arthritis the vet prescribed a bottle of medication,
And for good measure he was given a rabies inoculation.
I'm aware that "cat-scans" are used in treating the human population.
By Jove! Simba received a true "cat"-scan as a part of his observation!
I anticipated receipt of the bill for the tests with some trepidation!
To pay for all of this, need I present an arm or leg for amputation?
After all, we'd do anything for our old pal, 'tis our obligation.
We want to keep him around for nine more lives for our delectation!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Our dog named Heidi is very old you see.
She has been to the vet, for her old age.
Still strong willed, without any rage,
Taking medicine each day, given by me.
She still loves to eat so many things.
Many treats, she deserves them too.
For her love and bravery so true,
For eighteen years, her life rings.
This one day we had fresh chicken to fry.
My wife wearing rubber gloves to keep clean.
Then throwing them away in trash, we seen,
Heidi grabbing them, swallowing she did try.
We were not fast enough to stop her gulp.
Worried we quickly remembered a little trick.
A touch of peroxide to drink, to make her sick,
Gagging and choking, but she upchucked the pulp.
Not the prettiest sight that anyone could ever seen,
This might seem mean, but it could have been worse.
Heidi would have probably died, last ride a doggy hearse.
Now we hide her eyes from the garbage, and keep it pristine.
That meanest looking old grey cat,
just cross my path, me ~ meaning that,
he'd crowd out all the fine cats play
to gobble up their food ~ then stray!
Then two doors down ~ a new guy came
quite dashing, with a moustache ~ vain!
he'd ride his bike, a sporting scene
the French relays ~ he looked so keen!
Now scraggly tail had disappeared,
the mean grey cat with pointed ears
it seems the new guy liked its breed
and took a fancy ~ then to feed!
But what was this, upon the porch
this "frenched up" cat, its tail canooked
was strutting openly, its path
no more between the garbage' swath!
Scragg's eyes were not as mean to glare
and sometimes waited for his share,
a little love, old scraggly got
it changed his lonesome "nowhere" lot!
Hey friend, did you help scraggly out,
the coiffure giving scraggly clout,
"I trimmed him up ~ the new guy said
I think its gone to "scraggly's" head!
The new guy then became my friend,
his nurturance obvious in spend,
and scraggly lost his urged contend
a happier lot, the two seemed then!
The weeks went by, the porch seemed quite
the tamer cats shared their delight,
And little scragg stayed out of sight
His master keeping watch by night!
And then the message came to fawn
"Will you help Scraggly when I'm gone"
The thought of Scragg out "there" again
just digging for left overs ~ "when?"
I guess I'm headed for the Pen
the new guy stated in consign,
there wasn't much to say just then
I wondered why all through the night!
It seems the Law is rank with might
about a Driver's License plight
and five offenses get you booked
with more years time ~ now you're a crook!
This happy guy, content to share
his meager lot with Scraggly's care
was facing five years fenced in square
to get to work he chanced the dare!
They're after me ~ that's all it is
I had to drive ~ my job you see
will take his time, like some foul fee
and what he loved will wait ~ still free!
Not fair, agree ~ or don't agree!
More serious crimes ~ seem left to be,
the wronged in prisons ~ life's a sea
Of "SCRAGGLY TAILS" ~ without a plea!
Just love sharing this ice cream cone
Licking the opposite side from you
Brings joy to my heart just like a bone
Glad that you begged with a boo-hoo
Happiness comes to my mind it's true
When I think of playing with you
Wearing the pink bucket on my head
Even though I am a male Bulldog instead
This pink bucket makes me smile
Because you my mistress are filled with joy
When we play a game that's for a child
And a girl game and girl's toy
How excited I get when you get the leash
For that means we'll be walking down the street
My three year old mistress dressed in tie-die
Leggins and very frilly sandals
Maybe no one will notice that I'm a male
Hope that I don't have to use the fire hydrant
(Little three year old girl who has a male standard size boxer or bulldog as he pet and
companion. As seen through the dogs eyes.)
Form:
It has been about thirty years ago, plus or minus a few
I was living on our ranch in New Mexico
That is where i met my best friend
Her name was Wendy, not much that she could not do
She was a Dalmatain, my old amigo
We stayed friend to the very end
She thought that cats were for chasing, coyotes were her foe
She would chase a crow in flight
She came from the city, did not know much about the country
If she ever bit someone, she went for the big toe
She was a watch dog, would put up a fight
Just old Wendy and me
The first time she saw cattle, she did not know what to think
They did not have black spots and their size
Barking and raising a ruckus, she would run them out of the corral
Two week before they ever got a drink
When Wendy would sleep, they got wise
I never had a better pal
She would not play with a ball
But play fetch with a rock all day long
Wagging her tail and most always friendly
Lived to a ripe old age, before God came to call
It was a sad day when I had to say so long
If there is ever a dog with black spots in Heaven, it will be Wendy
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