Waiting for Snow

Waiting for Snow

Waiting for Snow Image courtesy Unsplash
Waiting for Snow
Image courtesy Unsplash

Dad cheerful said: “We’ll have Snow tomorrow!”

So my human pup and I, brave Eskimos,

Early before breakfast went down below

And sat by the window, waiting for snow.

 

It must be someone special, went through my head,

Since we could, this morning, and quite by chance,

Not eat at the table. “Toast! Can I have some more?”

“On one condition: not a crumb on the floor!”

 

I’m looking left, towards the deep, dark woods.

I’m looking right, towards the town with goods.

Where will she come from, Mrs. Snow?

Will she take the bus? Will she arrive by noon?

 

There’s a little bus station right by our house,

It’s busy in the morning, you couldn’t spot a mouse.

Buses stop here often throughout the day.

But Snow doesn’t get off. What’s causing her delay?

 

Maybe she’ll ride a bicycle, red and bright and shiny.

Like the postman does each day, even when it’s rainy.

Maybe she’ll come by yellow taxi, honking any minute.

Like the doctor does; arriving in an instant.

 

But what if Snow will just walk here, like grandpa likes to do.

“Exercise is good for you, I’m never sick with flue!”

He always tells my human pup and winks at her some more.

Grandpa’s old and wrinkled; his exercise advice might work!

 

What if Snow arrives at tea time? Mom always sais to us:

“It’s fashionable to do so, but always come announced!”

Aunts and quite so many Ladies visit once a week.

And tea, cookies and cakes, so yummy, they always like to eat.

 

Who is this Snow? Nobody mentioned her before!

Why is she coming? Did Mom even agreed?

My human pup expects her to play games;

I just want to know: will she throws sticks, twice in a row?

 

Will she tell bedtime stories and like pups like me?

Is she a stern or friendly Lady? I guess I’ll have to wait and see.

Will she share crumbs? And mostly,

Where will she sleep, if feeling lonely?

 

It’s way past lunch, we waited for sooo long.

My human pup is restless, Mom even hums a song.

I’ll tell Snow, when I’ll meet her, whenever that will be,

That being late is a no-no, please Ma’am, excuse me.

 

She didn’t come at all and it’s already time for bed.

Pajamas on, the story read, my human pup still sad.

“She’s here!” shouts Mom, so excited. “Hurry, get dressed!”

Get dressed? Go OUT? Why everyone’s so restless?

 

Is Snow a President?  What do I say, maybe she’s the Queen!

For all I know, from what I’ve seen, she’s a most expected being!

I won’t mention being late, but offer her some tea.

I only hope she brings presents, a little bone for me?

 

by Patricia Furstenberg

This is an edited version of the poem initially written for mypuppyclub.net

 

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Dog Tales with tails. Take Two.

The reproachful sigh

“I was watching my favorite show last night”, my mother once told me. She’s a NCIS fan. “I was caught up in the action, the next moment the blood froze in my veins.” I look at her; she’s been an ER Nurse all her life, she’s doesn’t scare easily. There are tears in her eyes. I touch her hand. “Mom?!” “Somebody sighed, just next to me. And I was alone in the room.”

My mind runs to and fro but I don’t have time for criminal investigations. My mother bursts into laughter. “It was Tara!”

Our dog’s bedtime ritual consisted of going to bed early, when my dad would retire. Then a couple of hours later she would wake up, find mom by the TV and WAIT for her to come to bed. Wait patiently then slowly becoming restless until she would sigh. A nasal, long sigh, all the time keeping her back at her. It was Tara’s reproachful, emphasized sigh: “how much longer will you keep ME awake?”

The grumpy sigh

My husband and I had a big yard and Gina, a mature Doberman crossed Rottweiler, when we decided to adopt a puppy of the same mix. That’s how Athos rolled into our lives, a compact mass of black fur. For a few months Gina had nothing to do with the curious intruder. At first she would get up and move as soon as he came near her, like he had the plague. Later on she would just switch on her siren. Puppy approaching? Grumpy sigh on and Athos would keep his distance.

The happy sigh

This is the full of expectations sigh, the “I can SEE into your eyes that you ARE going to play with me” sigh. Usually accompanied by a head pressed tight against you.  The sigh no dog should be without. It is my favorite sigh.

Gina and Athos, the golden years
Gina and Athos, the golden years

by Patricia Furstenberg

This article was written for mypuppyclub.net and posted on 28 August 2016 http://www.mypuppyclub.net/dog-tales-tails-take-two-patricia-furstenberg/

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