Soooooo...
To start with:
Yes, I really have descended to such a state of sad, middle aged bachelordom that I routinely write poetry that mocks my dog.
I'm sure some people might say that sounds worrisome.
But, unlike the things that were claimed by such fine folks as "Son of Sam", I have not (as of yet), actually heard my dog try and answer. I suppose if he ever does answer, then, that'll be the point, when I need to start worrying. :P
Still, I can't help wondering if he actually understands any of it, and if he does, is he just laughing at me all-the-harder?
This piece developed slowly over several months, with each segment born of one of those inevitable days that seems to occur at least once or twice a week, where, when it comes time for me to try and launch into my daily guitar practice, well, he just ain't having none of that! No way, no how!
Not when there's plenty of other things he'd much rather be doing than listening to so-called "master" making a bunch of horrible racket!
Sometimes, if my mocking words-in-reply come to me during the actual guitar practice, I might find myself singing and strumming chords. In the case of the third section of this piece, I found myself noodling around between the chords: G, D, C, and Em, and singing in a voice vaguely inspired by Rod Stewart's Mid-Seventies ballad: "You're in my Heart."
To start with:
Yes, I really have descended to such a state of sad, middle aged bachelordom that I routinely write poetry that mocks my dog.
I'm sure some people might say that sounds worrisome.
But, unlike the things that were claimed by such fine folks as "Son of Sam", I have not (as of yet), actually heard my dog try and answer. I suppose if he ever does answer, then, that'll be the point, when I need to start worrying. :P
Still, I can't help wondering if he actually understands any of it, and if he does, is he just laughing at me all-the-harder?
This piece developed slowly over several months, with each segment born of one of those inevitable days that seems to occur at least once or twice a week, where, when it comes time for me to try and launch into my daily guitar practice, well, he just ain't having none of that! No way, no how!
Not when there's plenty of other things he'd much rather be doing than listening to so-called "master" making a bunch of horrible racket!
Sometimes, if my mocking words-in-reply come to me during the actual guitar practice, I might find myself singing and strumming chords. In the case of the third section of this piece, I found myself noodling around between the chords: G, D, C, and Em, and singing in a voice vaguely inspired by Rod Stewart's Mid-Seventies ballad: "You're in my Heart."
Category Poetry / Animal related (non-anthro)
Species Dog (Other)
Size 80 x 120px
File Size 3.6 kB
Oh but they do talk... depending upon the canine, a language evolves. Maui (our male Husky) will use his eyes, looks at me, looks at the armrest where the Licorice is stored, looks back at me. Or the now so famous 'I HAVE TO GO OUT NOW!' walking circle - from me to the door, and back to me. Ignore that too long and you have a mess to clean up.
and - we had a Malamute once who really did talk to you - just in his language. When I got home from work, I would ask him how his day went, and he would woo woooo woo woo wooooo in response.
Vix
and - we had a Malamute once who really did talk to you - just in his language. When I got home from work, I would ask him how his day went, and he would woo woooo woo woo wooooo in response.
Vix
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