The Bark

You always barked when I came over.  
Even now, I choose to believe 
   you were just announcing my arrival.
You were that kind of dog.
You told of the world (or were you telling off the world?)
You barked at the lawnmower, 
              the vacuum, 
              and the kids jumping in the pool.
When a certain kitchen drawer was opened, 
   you barked at the thought of the electric knife.
      (it wasn’t even Thanksgiving)
But when I’d sit on your head, or 
bound through your screen door and into the kitchen 
to eat your food, 
   you didn’t make a sound.  
   You’d lift your head and just watch me go on by.
And when I’d chew on your leg 
like it was my Thanksgiving dinner 
   (it wasn’t even Thanksgiving),
you’d let out a satisfied groan.  Like you were glad 
   to be someone else’s sustenance.
When Dr. Lee saw the teeth marks, she asked what you’d gotten         
   yourself into.  
You just looked up at her with your two marbly brown eyes.    
Two weeks later, I had to go see Dr. Lee.  
I think she understood then that life is never our fault, 
   only the consequence of the company we keep, 
   and your company liked you an awful lot. 

By the time I moved in next door, you already had some friends.  
   Bella and BooBoo, and later, Briggs and Poo.
But you were my first friend.    

I was over your house today.  
   They told me you wouldn’t be there.  
      I think they thought I wouldn’t want to go then.  
         Stupid humans.  
      Don’t they know that dogs don’t care about such things?  

I let myself in like the old days.    
   Your owners let me go upstairs, 
   then downstairs, 
   then upstairs again.  
Good people, not afraid to let me see what’s missing--- 
   I can see why you loved them so much.
Then they let me sit there while they ate turkey sandwiches.  
   I tried not to bark for a bite.  It was so quiet.
But what’s a dog to do?  You weren’t there, 
   no one had announced my arrival,
   and I thought they’d like to hear from you again.

Author: David Pierce

I'm the one on the left. That's my favorite part on the right. I'm an ordained minister in the Presbyterian Church (USA) and the United Church of Christ. I work as Minister to a parish community in Cumberland, RI. That I could also see myself as a farmer, a cowboy, or Thoreau sitting pond-side at Walden is probably not insignificant. I don't blog about anything in particular, but everything I blog about is particularly important to me. That it may be to you as well is good enough for me. View all posts by David Pierce