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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Tales with tails. Take one.

“We’ve got a puppy!” is what you’re most likely to hear people exclaim, joyfully. No one will ever say: “We’ve got a tail!”

That tail’s a tell-tale!

Tara, my first dog, had a docked tail when I bought her.

This was long before docking and cropping became banned in Europe. Today, even without a federal law in place, most Veterinary’s throughout the world oppose these cosmetic practices.

But what Tara lacked in tail length she made up for in rear muscle strength! When she was happy, she was HAPPY, wagging her short tail, her rear-ends and sometimes even her back!

When happy, Tara wouldn’t wag, she would swing!

Love me, love my dog                     

Before Tara we sheltered a lost Blue Great Dane puppy, Honda, for a few weeks. Honda was a tall puppy, I thought… aged two, as her owners mentioned when they fetched her.

24 hours after we’d found her, our average-size apartment was already “tail-proofed”. Because Honda didn’t just have a tail, she had a secret weapon. Luckily for us it was winter, no explanations needed as to why our legs were bruised.

We soon learned that when Honda stands, the safest place would be near her head, away from her pounding end.

“Mom, where are my keys, I’ve put them on the coffee table!”

“Mom, where is my book, it was on the side of the sofa!”

“Oh, found them, the dog just wagged them off!”

Honda would lay and wag, hit the front door in the process and I could vouch someone was outside, knocking!

When happy, Honda wouldn’t wag, she would hammer!

Dog-tails come in many sizes and so do their four-legged owners. Thin or curly, crooked or straight, short or lengthy, I love a wagging tail.

It’s the sound and sight of a dog laughing.

by Patricia Furstenberg

This article was written for mypuppyclub.net and published on 21st August 2016 http://www.mypuppyclub.net/dog-tales-tails-take-one-patricia-furstenberg/

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