… on a year with marshal dillon dingle (a poem of love and thanks)
September 08, 2013
The light into my bedroom streaming
Morning light sends wood floors gleaming
Small shifts and shuffles from their dens
Two German Shepherds softly dreaming.
I imagine Blaze is chasing rabbit
As I have dubbed her nighttime habit
Of running legs and lowly growls
And the cruelty of Lorena Babbitt.
Or is it Bobbitt, I don’t know
For my memory’s begun to go
I just remember nighttime lobbing
And men responding, ‘Holy crow!”
Marshal Dillon Dingle’s plan
In dreams or in reality, man
Is ice cube stalking here and there
From Dunstable to Kazakhstan.
It’s Marshal who begins to yawn
Signaling that he’s noticed dawn
My nearly perfect husband sighs
Says something about ‘Satan’s spawn’.
Princess Blaze doesn’t make a sound
Considering paws up or down
Her self-appointed role is clear
Will Marshal Dillon stick around.
Gates are open, yelps of glee
Fred and Monty join the spree
Shepherds, a Lab, an old Bernese
Down the stairs and out to pee.
Blaze is down the stairs quite quickly
Fred and Monty, just as swiftly
Marshal Dillon Dingle’s waiting
For Dad or Mom ‘case Blaze is prickly.
Blaze has her rules, not to be broken
And she enforces them, outspoken
As Marshal Dillon searches quickly
For the perfect German Shepherd token
To give to Blaze, and make her happy
Something small and not too sappy
For Fred, the lab, some poop would do
But Blaze would think that present crappy.
So on and on and on he searches
Around the maples oaks and birches
As Blaze stares at him from on high
Of several rock and tree limb perches.
He finally springs from the tall grass
With a gift he thinks could be first class
He walks to her, nothing in tow
And promptly licks her on the ass.
He won’t acknowledge all her mumbles
Won’t go away when she grumbles
Ignores all her female Shepherd rules
And her resolve just slowly crumbles.
It is coming nigh onto a year
On our Dingle home frontier
He’s settled in, and staked his claim
Cracking even Blaze’s tough veneer.
This unexpected pup appears
With soulful eyes, and too-big ears
And leads us on a journey back
From freakin’ rainbows seen through tears.
Thanks to Marshal Dillon Dingle, Blaze Dingle for not offing him when she’s had her chances, and Monty and Fred for their ever accepting selves.
Thanks for readin’