If killer whales stood on their tails
And walked out of the sea
A dog’s next trick he’d learn real quick
Is how to climb a tree
Welcome to Finland
Category: dog
Game of Cones
I have a dog whose name is Spark
Who sometimes takes me to the park
Where we enjoy an evening stroll
I feed the ducks; he’s on patrol.
An old pro, Spark knows all the tricks
From playing dead to fetching sticks
His latest one involves a scheme
Which bags him loads of free ice cream.
He’ll spy a toddler on his own
Who’s struggling with a waffle cone
One far too big for little hands
And all the balance that demands.
Spark uses charm and big, brown eyes
To get him closer to the prize
Then as he nears these little ones
That’s when he grabs the cone and runs.
I’m deeply saddened by each theft
And every howl from the bereft
Whose double-scoops of lemon lime
Perpetuate this life of crime.
The mothers round on Spark and curse
So I make sure they’re reimbursed
Which throws the whole plan in reverse
For he was taught to steal a purse…
Cat Nip
The difference between cats and dogs?
Hold each in an embrace
Your dog will share a loving nod
A cat will scratch your face
Stalk Options
“My stalker’s released more nude photos of me.”
“How’s your hair in them?”
“Fabulous. I’d just had it done.”
“Let’s have a look.”
Laverne slid her phone across the table.
“You owe him one,” I agreed, swiping through a considerable collection of images. “Maybe you should get him something.”
“Like what?”
“Halloween’s coming up.”
“What makes you think he’s into Halloween?”
“Call it a hunch.”
“But I wouldn’t know what to get him.”
“Does he have someone special in his life?”
“Not since he killed all the members of his church group, no.”
“Any hobbies?”
“Skulking among the shadows.”
“I mean, besides that.”
“Photography, I suppose.”
“Then why not get him some lens wipes?”
“I’m sure we can do better than lens wipes,” Laverne frowned.
“Alright, let’s keep going then… would it be fair to describe him as outdoorsy?“
“Yes! And now that I think of it, he could do with a decent winter coat,” she suddenly brightened.
“My neighbours are in a cult if you’re looking for something with a hood.”
“I’ll get back to you on that.”
“Did I mention it’s detachable?”
“It’s just… I don’t want to cause offence.”
“To someone who’s photographing you through your fence,” I felt obliged to remind her.
“I see where you’re coming from.”
“Didn’t he once write that on a CookieGram?”
“Right before I reversed over him in the driveway.”
“Putting all that to one side, what were you doing running naked through the forest at 3am?”
“The dog let the cat out again,” Laverne chuckled. “They’re worse than kids, those two. I should have gotten a fish tank instead. Anyway, enough about me; what’s new with you?”
“I’ve decided I want to give back to society.”
“Oh, God…”
“Now, I know what you’re thinking but this time I’m serious. I’m going to make these next twelve months my My Year of Philanthropy.”
“Well, you’re on your own then because no one’s getting any of my money,” Laverne sniffed.
“I don’t need money; what I need is a project.”
“Why not just join a gym like everyone else?”
“Because until just now I wasn’t aware that I needed to.”
“I’m just thinking back to the incident in the park.”
“That dog should have been leashed.”
“John, you wrestled it for a Tootsie Roll.”
“Which I’d bought.”
“Which you’d dropped.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, there’s a recession on,” I pointed out, dignity still intact.
“Okay. Forget I even mentioned it.”
“Easier said than done.”
“It doesn’t even matter because you’re nice on the inside and that’s what counts. When I was growing up there was a fat family on our street and they were really nice too.”
“Name them. All of them.”
“The dog was called Cupcake, I remember that much.”
“Keep going.”
“My point is, they were just like everyone else.”
“Just not worth knowing,” I addressed the elephant in the room.
“You have the rear molars of a hyena. I’ve watched you crush femurs like they were toothpicks.”
“That’s an exaggeration.”
“No, it isn’t. I’ve seen cleaner kills on Animal Planet.”
“Speaking of which, did you catch it on Monday? It was about these sharks that sleep. I think they were in Mexico. I have never, ever heard of sharks sleeping before.”
“That’s because they don’t,” I was informed.
“Sharks don’t sleep?”
“Nope.”
“Then what were these ones doing?”
“During ratings week they whack a few in the head to make them appear cute and cuddly.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m afraid not,” Laverne shook her head in dismay.
“But that’s barbaric.”
“So is seeing a camera-woman being bitten in half during a live feed. The only thing those sharks were sleeping off was a Grade 3 concussion.”
“Is that what happens on Love Island?”
“Totally different.”
“How so?”
“They’re all brain-damaged to begin with.”
“How do you know so much about concussed sharks?” I was curious.
“I was going to be a marine biologist but back then they didn’t allow women in the Marines.”
“Right…”
Brief Encounter
I’ve got two mutts who sniff the butts
Of dogs whom they don’t know
But what is worse and quite perverse
This passes for Hello!
Imagine if we all did this
When meeting someone new
If that’s Hello! I’d like to know
How one would say Adieu!
Doggone
My dog has died and no one cares
I mention him but this draws stares
And frowns which tell me I’m too old
To mourn a pet, or so I’m told.
Empty corners, bare floor
Room before but now we’ve more
Toys donated, bed gone
No more divots in the lawn.
Coming home, a rusty gate
Announces me and though I wait
No rocket launches down the path
To knock me down and make me laugh.
Quiet mealtimes, no one begs
Or nuzzles gently at my legs
Knowing that, in time, of course I’ll
Slip him the odd, tender morsel.
Day is done, I climb the stair
And reach the top but he’s not there
I pray for sleep – those loving scenes
When he runs to me in my dreams.
Another Mist Opportunity
I’m known to stretch out on the lawn
Amidst the weekend carry-on
Of mowing, trimming, watering
And folks I know I ought to ring.
Just when it starts to get too loud
When life can push and kids can crowd
Before the next field’s needing ploughed
I lay right back and pick a cloud.
The dogs, alerted, circle me
Unsure if they should stay or flee
They know each trick, each ruse I use
To wrestle them in ones and twos.
Eventually they come to rest
On either side, heads on my chest
And then the three of us just stare
At our own clouds a way up there.
Marshmallow Fluff or Dairy Whip
A giant dollop on the lip
Of Heaven, cruising like a ship
That’s drifted, noiseless, from its slip.
I want to jump and land on it
And try my best to stand on it
Then sink into its spongy core
While eating handfuls from its store.
They have no map, no place to be
You can’t catch clouds because they’re free
To nonchalantly skirt your town
And make us run when they come down.
The trouble is, they take their time
And doing so, robs me of mine
So up I get – no time to lie!
Until the next cloud passes by…
Mr Ormsby At Large 