Bo

In order to scratch this annoying itch to versify, maybe it is best if I just keep a 'song' going on a back-burner. I have been stirring at this one for a couple of weeks, and I am ready to let it go. It is adapted from a diary entry from November 20, 2003 about my old dog Bo. He died in 2008. It's kind of sad for an old guy to write about his dog, being more fit material for a small boy of nine or ten, but he really was the best friend I ever had.

~ ~ ~

A cold front blows in, winds swirling,
Making for a cold November morning.

My old dog, Bo, likes it a little cold,
Running around, jumping about, more bold;
He is rejuvenated and young again,
My aging, furry, and best friend;
He wants to play like we used to do.
"Oh, I will always play with you!"

Where's the rope-bone? It's been too long.
There it is, kind of new and strong,
That long-neglected chew-toy,
The kind we were wont to enjoy:
Barely in the door from the pet store,
We'd grab our ends and it's tug-of-war!

Days of infamy to remember,
A battle of mighty opposites,
No truce and no surrender!

Bo's eyes light up, his teeth gritted,
The Spitz in him is fiercely committed;
He growls and grabs one ropey end,
Leaves the other for me to defend;
It's pull and twist, this dance of death,
Where there's love and wrath in every step.

But my two legs cannot equal his four,
And I almost fall and kiss the floor!
So, what else can I do but cheat
And veer us to the bed and take a seat?
But Bo knows I've done this before
And is prepared to even the score;
He leaps on the bed, gets behind me,
Claws into me like I'm his favorite tree,
Driving his forelegs into my back,
Using me for leverage with this attack,
As I hold the rope over my shoulder
Like I am trying to flip him over.

We tug-of-war this way for a while;
He is practically nuzzling my ear,
Kind of tickling me, making me smile:
I've never known love more dear.
We've been fighting into noontide
And must sometime end this sweet ride,
Though I'd have it go on for all time
Instead of merely freezing it in rhyme.

Rain

Another moderately good rain. Like a slap in the face from Mother Nature. I was sure that she got this foul, stormy weather out of her system by now. Well, maybe the cats will be that much more domesticated by the time we dry out.

Thomas Jefferson

“No more good must be attempted than the nation can bear.”

-- Thomas Jefferson

He may have been quoting or paraphrasing Solon. Proud of his “revolution of 1800”, and the ousting of the Federalist party, Jefferson also prided himself on his moderation in power, that he attained power and was not corrupted. So he felt. I am sure that his slaves were happy for him.

Old Folk

I generally don't open official, businessy mail, throwing it straightway into the trashcan. However, this one caught my eye with a personalized birthday greeting. It was also clear that there was a plastic card inside, leading one to suspect that it is a credit card company that only happens to have a better public relations department, but I was moved to open it to make sure. It turns out to be an AARP membership letter - that political lobby for old retirees. Well, that is a good laugh on me. "But I never even got to live my life yet! I haven't even had a job. How can I retire?" But I guess I did live my life; it's the only life I'm ever going to get. Oh, well. I just wish that I could start collecting Social Security checks, notwithstanding my insufficient contributions into that venerable fund.