Now, that Sunny really upset me. Am I wrong or did he insinuate that Cher (that is me) is not quite bright? Why, I am the smartest in our family for sure! I am the Muse. I write poetry.
I am talented and quiet. I only talk to the canines…they understand me. Sometimes I speak with Caroline, if she is in a good mood. Mostly I sit quietly and compose. Sunny really should not assume that because I don’t natter on about nothing that my noggin is empty.
Why, just this day I wrote of Cricket, Mam’an’s precious boy…I quite like our Cricket and Scarlet, too. They are so much fun, they chase me but don’t catch me. That’s more than I can say for the rest! So, here is my ode to our Cricket:
Go pee high up on that fence post
leave your name, your number too
no, no, not that, you nitwit canine
you never heard me say go poo…
no, pee high there, let the others
know who you are and what you do
when you ate and how you ate it
with gusto, mate, and a lovely brew…
Tell them Deadlyclaws is a bounder
a cocksure peke with a steady gait
a girlfriend we all call Miz Scarlet
though the humans call her Chase
tell those blighters they need not tarry
but go on back down through the wood
don’t return, for you’ll be packin’
gnarling teeth and a filthy mood!
He lies upended there on the carpet
happily dreaming of how mean he is
front feet running nine to forty
soft woofs echo from between his lips
and then he awakens with sudden caution
a heavy weight upon his chest
and narrows eyes at the snoozing feline
covering him warmly like a vest
“How can I go pee high upon that fencepost
and show them all how fierce I be
when you show no more fear than Scarlet
and even dare to nap on me!
get thee gone, you cuss’ed feline
don’t you know I’m danger-based?
Cher laughs softly at his fierceness
(and dares to stroke that pug-nosed face)
“Calm down, sweet boy, you know your bluster
won’t give me the slightest pause
did you forget, your name is Cricket
when you’re awake, not Deadly Claws…
you’re but a dog, and we’ll protect you
from any harm that comes your way
feline power is to be respected
now lie back down, and let me lay…”
And so he does as he’s commanded
and looks forward to gallant dreams
where he’ll go pee high up on that fencepost
and show the world he’s what he seems!
He’s no cat bed, though Cher would claim him
he’s no weak-kneed Nellie, he
he’s a brute, his bark will prove it —
if his sweet Cher would just let him be!
Sandi McBride is a resident of Jefferson who blogs regularly and enjoys her garden and her furry and feathered friends. She is a wife and mother of two sons.