Tag Archives: Dog stories

Oh GSD! How I Love You! said the Weimaraner

 

weimeramer&GSD
The Weimaraner and the German shepherd were the very best of friends
Hand in hand they strolled the land, far and wide through forest glens.
Then one fine day, from east to west, as clear a day could be,
Something, unbeknownst to them, was decidedly not right
And being very fearful, they fell into a fright.
“If you so please, and if you might, look far into the distance.”
And the Weimaraner huffed and puffed, as he spoke with much insistence.
Now the German shepherd, young and foolish, took care to do what pleased
So carefully she turned her head, as she began to sneeze
For she was prone, as you must know, to various reactions
And even with the right precautions
Her nose began to quiver, her body shook and quaked
Her head went back, her legs a jumble, and quick as be began to tumble,
Rolling past the Weimaraner, fast as a summer breeze.
“I say, that little gal of mine is getting rather sassy,”
Though none was there to hear or care, or his brilliant words to pass to.
His legs unfolded, and then his ears, and they began to flap,
Such a sight he was, as he flew past streams, and over the treetops,
For though they did intend to, without warning they did land too
Smack in the middle of a herd of cows, mooing softly while eating lunch,
Munching grass, so brilliantly green
With shades of chartreuse and violet, it seemed
That the cows were confused or possibly drunk
Though ranting and raving they were never mean,
But would stand and complain, in a long steady stream,
About family and friends and the Queen of England.
“It’s futile to talk to cows, and quite out of the question.”
So the friends declined, and in no time, slipped away with much discretion
As off they ran, hand in hand
Such a pair of friends you never saw
On to adventure, bound to explore
From the tip of Maine to the Florida Keys
And on to England and France if you please
With a stop in Amsterdam and Italy too,
They even ate chocolate in Belgium, it’s true,
Then back to the States for a loud how-DE-doo.
The Weimaraner and the Shepherd ran and ran with grace and with ease
Laughing with joy, and an occasional sneeze.

 
 

Happy Seasons and May Holiday Lights Glow So Bright!


The duck and the pigeon

duck&pidgeon
The duck and the pigeon met by chance
Stowed away on a boat to France
They hopped a truck parked at the dock
Then drove to Montmartre and on to Chartres
And while they journeyed to Par´e
They each told stories of their families.

Arriving in Paris, they leapt from the truck
The pigeon danced wildly with the waddling duck
What a funny sight these two birds were
Walking the streets, looking in stores
Seeing the dazzling wares galore.

“That hat would make a lovely present
To match my sister’s new-born pheasant
And for my mother I’ll get a pot
She loves to bake and cook a lot.”
“That’s great,” the pigeon did chime in
“My wife will like that shiny pin.
And for my brother I’ll get suspenders
And for my sister, a pair of book enders!”
So off the duck and pigeon strolled
From street to street and boulevard
Admiring everything in sight,
They did this long into the night.

The happy pair had a grand old time
They visited the countryside again and again
To see where grapes were grown and then
Where Van Gogh painted and even Cezanne
Before returning to Par´e
To take a train to the ferry
Where their journey home would begin
Loaded with presents for family and friends.


I’m handsome…

My pads are tough from asphalt streets

My nails are short, for this I’m pleased

My coat is brushed ten thousand times

So for the ladies I do shine.

Yet never once will she release

And take me off this cumbersome leash

So that I may attend to all

The ladies at my beck and call!

 

 

 


a new day

A new day

He wakes

He looks.

He eats

He sleeps.

He is a dog

dakotasleepoutsideblog


Dog bed-time story – part 13

pb160031blogI’m beleaguered by thoughtlessness. Why, I must be invisible most of the time. Or she only considers me a bed-warmer. No sooner than I hop up on my (her) bed, than she’s stroking me, running her fingers through the fur on my chest (how sensual…), as if I didn’t know she only uses me when she’s cold-no love lost here. Yessiree-bob, I can accommodate her, why not? No one else is running up to bat, hands out, offering a home, hearth and haven.
Heaven knows, heaven sent she may not be, but heavenly is the feeling I get tucked under all those blankets on a cold November night. Wouldn’t you like to snuggle up to someone your own size? Someone to press your body against, bury your head in their neck, take in those pheromones? Oh, oh, you say I’m naughty, inhaling her essence, but forget not, my greatest sense is my nose. Just come a little closer, I know who you’ve been with today…you can’t lie to me…maybe your partner…
Yes, it’s ten minutes to eight, and already her eyelids are drooping…guess I’ll have to pick up another day…


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