Tag Archives: #dogs


Two dogs

pulling in different directions;

and I am the piece of ribbon

half way along the rope

in the midst of the two teams;

being pulled

one way,

and then the other;

and back again.

Who will win?

Not me.

Not me

A message to our Dogs and Cat (but mainly our dogs)

I am your sofa,

I am your climbing frame,

I am your waiter –

do you know ‘my’ name?


I keep you waiting,

I take too long,

I don’t give you enough,

I measure things wrong.


I take you out

when the weather is yuck,

I pull you away

from your choicest tuck.


I make you be quiet

when you are saying, ‘watch out!’

When there’s no one around

to whisper or shout.


I get up and do things

when your need is for hugs,

and I leave you for ‘years!’

so you chew up the rugs.


I suppose that you need me

to be at your beck and call;

but I’d quite like a moment,

though you’d like them all.

My dog is jealous

My dog is jealous,

of my other dog,

and is also jealous,

of my other other dog.


My other dog (the second one)

is jealous of my other other dog,

and also jealous of the first dog in this poem.

My other other dog doesn’t really do jealousy;

but is a quick-moving, lively, active sort…

when there is the prospect of food in the offing.


My three dogs are small, medium,

and slightly larger than medium

(but not large).

One is black, one is brown,

the third… has a lack of common sense,

hence we call her Derp –

even though it’s not her actual name.


All three get on well together,

and have formed a little circus troupe;

juggling, acrobacy, riding a bicycle backwards, and the like –

can you picture a Dachshund riding a bike?

Anyway, they are all loved and love back,

of canine affection we have no lack.

The four fur babies

Not that they are all together

all that often,

but, when they are,

they can get on

with the best of them.

Characters all,

creatures of habit,

feline, canines

(that never say, ‘rabbit’)

loved to pieces,

cheeky tykes,

up for a walk

(unless it’s wet)

more like friends

less like pets –

if only they could talk,

“We hate the vets!”

My dog loves Larkin

My dog loves Larkin:

which is not that unusual;

if you consider that some dogs like music,

especially Bach;

but, poetry?

Why not?

Has a dog not got ears to hear;

a mind to think;

eyes to read the words—

hold on…

sorry, my dog loves Barkin’ –

easy mistake to make.

Pink Towels

We never used to have any,

we certainly have some now;

I popped in the dogs’ red coats

with a few dirty towels;

luckily, the dogs don’t mind

if their towels are pink;

at least, that’s what I try to think,

as they have been giving me looks,

kind of curious and strange,

as they look at their towels,

and consider the colourful change.

On the beach

Three little dogs,

twelve little feet,

one virginal beach,

as the tide moves out of reach.

Given no more than a few minutes

of running to and fro,

there is no part of the revealed sand

that doesn’t have a paw-print show.

Holes have been dug,

ragged rocks run ‘round,

and all can be discovered

from the tracks on the ground.

Three tired dogs,

twelve tired legs,

“We deserve a biscuit treat!”

the spokesdog says.


Sheltering under a tree,

the three doggoes and me,

trying to remain dry,

as the rain falls from high.


Failing in this task,

in pale rainlight we bask,

spirits dampened just a tad;

I ignored the signs,

and, so, my bad.

Muddy puddle water

Dogs love puddle water,

just as much as you do:

the smell and the taste,

it’s like a doggy voodoo.

Off to the Beach

I’m off to the beach

to teach the young dudes

how a planet occludes.

No, not really;

I’m taking the dogs

for a walk,

and to teach them to talk.

No, not really;

actually, not the talking part,

just the walking bit.