D: Dog

Daily Note

Every day, a photograph, a poem. Our bounding golden-doodle had an adventure yesterday on our daily walk in the hills behind city hall. The hills, mostly sagebrush and bunch grass, form small canyons leading down the hillside towards town. It’s a great place to walk the dog among the deer, turkey, and quail that stot, fly, and waddle out of our way.

Today, two mule deer walked on the road and stopped to watch us. Guthrie stopped to see what to do. Luckily, he doesn’t chase the deer who need to save their energy for the coming winter. He just watches them. Same with other dogs and cats. Guthrie is so mellow; even so, the mule deer decided to leave. You can see them stotting:

But that’s not the adventure. The adventure is one that our best friends take us as they romp through the hills at twenty miles for our one mile. I turned around and he’d found his adventure, and rolled in it– a full back rub roll, and when I approached, he sat up so proud at the poop and gunk and yuck that covered his side. And, of course, he just ran off to find a deer hoof, which he carried away in his mouth and lay down to munch on it.

I asked him if he rolled. He just looked at me: “What? Me roll? I’m just minding my dog business.”

He’s a dog. D-dog. And most of the time he is D-delightful. But today, he is D-disgusting.

Note: Guthrie waited patiently on the back porch while Scott washed him off. He still stinks. D Delightful. D Disgusting.

And so, a poem…

Poetry

D: Dog

What?
I don’t know what that smell is.
Really, Roll? I didn’t roll.
[licks mouth]
I didn’t eat any thing.
Owner sighs.
D: dog
D: delightful
D: disgusting
I’m ready for a nap.
You’re ready for a bath.

Sheri Edwards
11.27.23 331.365.23
Poetry/Photography