Roger, Rags and Ron Hull at Rented Shack with Beehives 1944
Doggy Does
When 2-year-old twins,
get on a destructive path,
and push a beehive over,
Rags, you fight the bees bravely,
save the tykes from their wrath.
When accidentally locked inside,
two weeks, your food and water outside,
while our family on vacation,
you eat the curtains true to your name,
Rags, survive to greet them come home.
A cute little puppy turned bad dog,
you are dropped off 30 miles away.
But Barney, you have a sense of home,
and are back for food and water the next day.
Named Tippy for white tips of feet and tail,
you are not yippy until mama comes home,
you leap to kiss her on the face, no disgrace,
so glad to be let out of house jail to roam.
Tippy can get nippy with Peggy, a lab/boxer mix,
Peggy is a killer, but not very, with her peers.
So, Tippy nips at her ears and runs off quickly,
if she were not a dog, it would bring her to tears.
Tawny could catch any ball on an upward bounce,
but her many pups, her talent, had not one ounce.
On the beach, she would chase the ball crazily fast,
coming up with a mouthful of sand at last.
Schatzi (Sweetheart) was a freezing stray,
that Mom started feeding one cold winter's day.
She had many pups like Pete in her life,
first litter in a hole dug in a ditch from strife.
Pete spent all winter below zero in tall grass,
so we built him a doghouse for cold and for hot.
He recovered in that house after being hit by a car,
but survived, only to die in there after being shot.
Deprived of protein, with a roach leg smile,
Jazz would declare his capture for a while.
Quick to attack and then, settle down,
as if on a leash keep an eye me a mile.
Lie under my wheelchair until heard a "click."
Avoiding getting his hair jerked by my wheels.
But, when he would sneak on the bed with me,
I would throw him to the carpet, head over heels.
Jazz's poopies were dry as a bone he never chewed,
he fertilized the lawn where one could walk barefoot,
without ever stepping on slimy, stinky doggy do.
Learned from my ex to only feed him dry dog food, too.
You wouldn't find Jazz begging for treats at the table,
but loved his monthly meds wrapped in cheese.
His toenails never needed to be cut or trimmed.
He ran ruts in the lawn chasing intruders with ease.
On outings, Jazz always kept me in sight.
An invisible leash that he held to quite tight.
He sensed that if ever in danger I was the one,
he would run to and jump in my lap just for fun.
I remember these dogs for their amazing ways,
will remember them always to the end of my days.
Copyright 2024 © Ronald W. Hull
6/6/24
Tippy was a Christmas present in 1956
Pete with Tom and Tim in 1970
Posing with Pete for Tim at 11 to take our picture in 1970
Jazz at Stephen F.Austin State Park in 1992
Jazz at Quintano Beach in 1994
Jazz with me
You can read this poem and print it at my website here.
Rebecca