When I looked down,
I saw a piece of food there on the floor.
I looked around
In wonder—it had not been there before.
The doggie must
Have brought it in and left it here for me:
A show of trust
And comradeship for everyone to see.
I waited there
To see if my sweet furball would return,
Divide a share
For her, then leave. But that’s not what I learned.
Instead she had
A plan, it seemed, to make some sort of trade.
Her eyes were sad;
In fact, she seemed a little bit dismayed.
Her doggie dish
Was empty now without one bit of food.
Her only wish
Was sustenance to brighten up her mood.
She needs it filled with doggie chow so she can make a meal.
She’ll feel good will
Toward me then: the best that she can feel.
August 12, 2008
I wrote this poem for “Fluffy”, my granddoggie, the baby of my daughter “Rachel”
Back then, the frowned-upon food that Fluffy refused to eat was a piece of old bread. However, if it had been a piece of red bell pepper instead of old bread, she wouldn’t have offered to share it with me. In fact, the coveted red pepper would have literally “disappeared without a trace”
These days, our two dogs would gladly fight over bell peppers, but they usually have few opportunities because we are all selfish with our peppers.
It’s a bit ironic that this poem comes into the rotation this week because we are almost out of dog food and are about to transition the canines onto unsweetened oatmeal and raw eggs until we can get back to the pet store for a new supply. The dogs haven’t started complaining yet, and I think they may feel like they have won the lottery as we are quicker to share “people” food with them than we were before they were on short rations.