February 26, 2015

 

 

When Bimbo Barker

was around,

he sat with them

when grief they found.

When his family knelt

by the television,

he felt their pain;

that dog had vision.

 

That Bimbo Barker;

one cool dude,

lived in the days of

‘Get Back’ and Hey Jude’.

When Radio Caroline

was at it’s height,

he lay by their bed

throughout the night.

 

When Bimbo Barker died,

with problems in old age,

not very long after,

they turned another page.

A transition time,

that was pure hell,

until Paddy Parka

rang their bell.

 

And saw them through

the grimmest days,

with his trust and loyalty,

and loving ways.

They said Bimbo Barker

must have filled him in,

on the do’s and don’ts

of fitting in.

 

That Paddy Parka;

one understanding soul,

helped when they spun,

out of control.

Only him alone,

in this world knew,

a closely guarded secret,

that on silence grew.

 

and for a time,

all was going well;

none of them sensing,

the parting knell.

Or another transition time,

that was on it’s way,

as Paddy Parka went to heaven,

after a fatal RTA.

 

‘No more’ they said;

‘now you are wed’.

‘We’ve done our bit,

our hearts have bled’.

‘It will be hard,

but we’ll survive somehow,

and anyway, a dog,

would outlive us now’!

 

A life without a dog;

a life that was unknown,

though, they switched to cats,

as cat’s stand on their own!

Or so they thought,

with a welcoming wave,

But in no time at all,

they became their slave.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

February 1, 2015

 

 

I caught his eye,

his tail wagged to and fro,

and boredom from

his mind did go.

 

The connection just

the bond he needed,

when tethered to a table

feeling so impeded.

 

He’d sat and stood,

and lay and rolled.

God, he was bored;

his face a story told.

 

All he yearned for

was a lengthy walk,

but all they did,

was sit and talk,

 

and talk and talk,

and rant and rave,

about sod all,

just her and Mave.

 

With him not being

a ‘working dog’,

each day to him

was just groundhog.

 

Just then he saw,

his mistress stand,

but not a glove did she

put on her hand,

 

instead she trotted

off to the bar,

to order desserts,

after adjusting her bra.

 

In disbelief, the dog

slumped back to the floor,

and licked his balls,

til they were sore.

 

 

 

 

January 16, 2015

 

 

And though the litter

just days old,

it took only moments

to spot one so bold.

 

And then the greediest

by hunger led,

had soon gained weight,

and had the largest head.

 

The mild mannered one

waited in the queue,

until her mother’s teat

appeared on view.

 

But the smallest one

that they said might die,

I reared myself,

when he caught my eye.

 

 

December 7, 2014

 

 

and in a life

that was suppressed,

with one’s best efforts

always second best,

 

there was comfort waiting

by the fire,

never judging, and without

a crossed wire.

 

And when they failed to see

you’d come home now,

always the cat sat waiting

to say me-ow.

 

No better calmer;

that snugly ball,

who read the signs

and said ‘just sod ‘em all!

 

 

October 29, 2014

 

 

I saw a large cat

with an extra long tail,

disappear through my hedge

during a snow-blizzard gale.

 

It’s black sleekness stood out;

I thought ‘Dear god, what’s that?’

I knew in an instance,

it was no ordinary cat.

 

It was the day before Christmas Eve;

how I remember it well.

I picked up the phone;

surrounding neighbours to tell.

 

With heart beating fast,

I recalled my sheer fright,

when seeing the creature,

switch on, my security light.

 

I told of it’s ‘panther-like’ hind quarters;

so powerful and sleek,

and it’s tail, like a bullwhip,

that rendered me weak.

 

And how I was too scared to go out

and check it’s paw prints;

by now the response from neighbours

held dubious hints,

 

about whether I had been drinking

a quick Christmas ‘tot’?

I strenuously replied

that I certainly had not!

 

And that the big cat I saw,

was as real as could be,

and was a sight, I suspected,

that would stay long with me.

 

For there IS a wild cat out there;

be in no doubt.

If you’re lucky you’ll see it,

whilst you are out and about.

 

It could take you by chance

and you will catch a breath.

It’s a sight for your eyes,

that you’ll take to your death.

 

Perhaps with it comes luck,

like seeing a four-leafed clover;

though the probability low,

if you search the world over.

 

But for me it explained,

why two of my cats, I’d found dead,

with no rhyme or reason,

in my garden flower bed,

 

without a mark on them;

as if killed for fun,

when the main objective was

to chase and then stun,

 

and leave them for dead,

as if chicken feed,

when the hunt for a muntjac,

more, satisfied a greed.

 

I’ll never make logic of it;

I can only surmise,

and say it consumed my thoughts,

when it took me, by surprise.

 

Now, when ramblers sight them,

in the surrounding countryside,

I remain perfectly quiet,

to protect my pride.

 

Though their vision the same

as the one I conceived;

I know it’s unlikely

they will be believed.

 

I so wish to this day,

I could have faced a new friend.

But the truth of the matter is;

I only saw its rear end!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

September 30, 2014

 

 

I saw a dog

sat on a trampoline,

keeping it’s

underbelly clean,

 

and free from damp

and dirt and grime,

basking in the sun

waiting for mealtime.

 

 

July 27, 2014

 

 

Rescue him,

by all means do.

Give him food and shelter

to start life anew.

 

But in your quest

for his safe protection,

don’t mistake entrapment

for affection.

 

Never tether him for

he needs his space,

to romp and graze

and run and race.

 

He’ll need to be clipped

from time to time,

to free his coat

of dirt and grime.

 

And a pedicure

won’t go amiss,

and an ear inspection

along with this.

 

Rescue him,

by all means do,

but food and drink alone,

won’t get him through.

 

And to limit his lust

in a free for all;

the price of castration,

very small.

 

Unwanted litters

more heartache make.

Prevention a cure,

for goodness sake!

 

Also have him trained

and in time you’ll find,

he’ll forget the anguish

in his mind.

 

And the rotten start

that he endured,

will be gone at last,

as he feels reassured.

 

Rescue him,

by all means do,

but remember he needs

his freedom too.

 

He won’t stray far

from your side,

once the bond is built,

and trust onside.

 

Your pal for life,

he’ll want to be.

Tenfold he’ll return

the love, shown to he.

 

‘Better than humans’,

old sages say,

when no other love

has come their way.

 

And there’s truth in that

when a match is found.

So go find yourself

a scraggy hound.

 

Rescue him,

by all means do,

but let sense prevail

or he’ll still feel blue.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

July 20, 2014

 

 

The busy swan,

in nesting mode,

in detail makes

a new abode,

 

for this seasons

offsprings, newly laid,

until her patience

is repaid,

 

when her pride and joy

arrive as planned,

with her Cob close by

to lend a hand.

 

 

June 23, 2014

 

 

Quite in a neutral

kind of way,

I met a horse

who was a Bay.

 

We shared the love

of solitude.

For his age, I thought him,

one cool dude.

 

His life so interesting,

it did turn out;

he’d seen the limelight,

without doubt!

 

Yet so much unsaid

through protocol,

which would have

involved Interpol,

 

had he spilled the beans

and broken the trust,

bestowed upon him

by duty’s thrust,

 

when he entered a life

not many Bay’s see;

the fact he had class

was obvious to me!

 

When I said I’d enjoyed

‘The trooping of the colour’,

his eyes glazed over,

his expression became duller.

 

I had hit a nerve;

a sensitive spot.

He knew I’d sussed out,

a life, he hadn’t forgot.

 

I patted his back and

stroked a tear from his face;

that moment of poignancy,

he held with grace.

 

And of a bond between us

we became aware;

from that day to this,

a friendship rare,

 

developed by such

an unlikely pair,

who in each other confide,

without any words there!

 

 

 

 

 

May 17, 2014

 

 

When Billy sat beneath your pram

by the waters edge, where cygnets swam.

No better sight was there to view,

than the closeness felt by he and you.

 

And when you started to toddle,

he followed your every stride;

a trusted, loyal companion

and ever watchful guide.

 

Until the inevitable day, that

we walked you off to class.

A sorry mess we were,

when we returned home, alas!

 

But what happiness we felt

when it was half past three;

we shared many lows and highs,

did our Billy and me.

 

Then old age came along,

and took our lovely boy,

who’d been our bond of strength

and constant family joy.

 

And then Uni finally beckoned

and you were on your way,

as I sat with Billy, reflecting,

under the tree where now he lay!

 

 

 

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