I could write a poem with a line for every dog I’ve ever met…
Prompt 17: “This is a fun one – it’s a prompt developed by the comic artist Lynda Barry, and it asks you to think about dogs you have known, seen, or heard about, and then use them as a springboard into wherever they take you.“
Other dogs I could write lines and lines on dogs in my life. All my childhood dogs that made me wish for one which didn’t happen for almost 30 years. The dogs from the song grandma sang to me before sleep (coupled with “Und der Flak macht bum bum”) about the dogs of her siblings which we regularly visited, and they all loved me because it was me to give them the bones and leftover meat which we had been saving all week in a plastic bag in the fridge. The dogs of my first school friend, all female, who took my early fear of dogs away. The dogs of my friends who I thought were the luckiest in the world for having them. Until finally Chance took over and threw a newborn puppy litter of ten in our trash. We kept three and raised them by the bottle and then we kept the introvert. Lines of dogs in dog school which we, the introverts, hated so. That bitch who made holes in his neck so that we could see how thick his skin really was. All the millions of dogs met on dog-walks. But first I’d need to remove bestia off my feet and explain.
I kept the poem relatively short but in photos there are more or less all the dogs I’ve seen in the last nine years with, as the last in the gallery, our first dog Žak – the introvert – who grew up to be 13 and left us in 2012.
As it is, I post photos of our present bestia all the time – there he is permanently on top of my blog in my parents’ garden in Piran – so he says he can understand the multitude of other dogs in this post. Especially since he got lots of lamb today. He says Easter is his favourite holiday.
It just so happens that he wrote my 2019 poem on this day. There it is below in the memories. Click on “Read all” to read it in full.
Happy Easter and don’t drop your eggs. (It’s a play on words. Bojana will understand – neka ti jaja dobro ispadnu!)
In response to Patrick Jennings’ Pic and a Word Challenge #309: Lines
The last day in my NaPoWriMo history
2018: To the sea
In the next compartment another family of four travelling companions. And then another. I believe we have peopled the entire carriage with our friends. The ride will take the whole evening, night and morning. Then the ferry. Then the fishing boat. Then the village. Our mountain looks down. Crazy Slovenians are back. (Read all.)
2019: A woman and a dog
She is nice, I suppose, in a humanly way. Alright then. I’m not going to tell her about that wolf and how he peed on our gate.
One phone for the family of four. On alternate weeks classes fall after lunch. You don’t want the phone to wake you. But it does. Repeatedly. Every morning: Riiiing! Bolt from yours into the living room. Pick up the receiver. “GRAMEX!” “No, it is not! Stop calling here!” * It’s my second or third visit to my ex’s place. I spot a pack of his old business cards. Big letters spell: GRAMEX. Underneath there is a number. It looks like ours. Only one little digit wrong, the last one. All those people were calling him early, too early. By fifteen years.
2021: Moon Concentration (a cento in two parts)
Johnny Moon dreams in class. Tonight's the night he's going to jump the moon. The moon was yellow, and a song was sung. But we lost little John as the moon struck one. My sister killed her baby cause she couldn’t afford to feed it and we’re sending people to the moon. No hot water, no toilets, no lights but Whitey's on the moon. (Read all and see the moon.)
This day in my blogging history
Wake up look around memorise what you see it may be gone tomorrow everything changes. Someday there will be nothing but what is remembered there may be no-one to remember it. Keep moving wherever you stand is ground zero a moving target is harder to hit.
2015: Look who is coming! When the first prize of our tournament was the train ticket to Tuscany, but then – after she won – she drove up with own car and husband like the queen.
If you would avoid all fools go into a dense forest and there refrain from gazing into still pools. ~Austin O’Malley