Wheel Challenge: A Dog's Life 🐕

Alright gang, here we are, once again, the next installment of the Wheel Challenge. (Can I get a drumroll??? ---- )

This challenge, the subject is..... A Dog's Life

Open your minds, open your hearts, bring us that glimpse of your soul. Tell us about a A Dog's Life or something to that effect.

Rules of the challenge.....

• 3- 53 lines
  
  
• Please refrain from descriptions of your sexual deviancy- if applicable (I know it's Lit, but just this once, hold back, okay? Okay!)
  
  
• Any poetic form you choose.
  
  
• Today is Tuesday, this challenge will last until this coming Sunday midnight, GST
  
  
• Last one in has the privilege, should they accept it, to start the next challenge thread, choose the title and determine conditions.
  
  
• If you are outside the deadline, post anyway

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Additionally, if you are new to this challenge series, please visit the previous installments to read or post your own poetic view of that subject. Of course, anyone can jump right in at any point.

First, by HarryHill: Wheel Of The Year

Second, by cascadiabound:Gratitude

Third, by Mrtenant : Dancing

Fourth, greenmountaineer gave us: Outdoor Games

Fifth, Underyourspell : Superstition

sixth, Piscator : Right Place Wrong Time

seventh by cascadiabound: Road Trips

eighth, HarryHill: Treehouse

ninth, Piscator:The TimesThey Are A Changing

tenth, Mrtenant:Rainy Day

eleventh, Remec: The Big Game

twelfth, Annie: Extra Terrestrials

Thirteenth, butters Do Trees Snore

howling and dancing in preparation for the dog's life poems

a dog's life...

is not all gnaw and woof,
enough fluff and tooth,
dig and roll and run and stuff
all of that damned crunchy guff
inside as swiftly as one can.
oh, no,
it's not all fun and chew toys, man:

teething is a bitch, for one,
and couches just aren't made
as once they were,
holding onto fur like accusation,
shedding ugly wadding like
some noble declaration...
submit! submit!
and maybe pee a little bit
for hallmarked authenticity,
pup-appeal for bipedal pity;

there's waiting on the hands and legs
and leash at times when hot and sweet re-
lease is foremost in my canine mind,
hoping that they'll find the time
to not neglect those notes i whine;

the oilsome, heaving stink of that loud thing
on four round wheels that bring us here and
there, as i'm left staring out the glass
hoping not to puke before the grass arrives
and trusting that the sting of something sharp
that makes me bark won't hit me once again,
have strangers shove that something up my arse
with no permission asked or treat to follow --
leaves me feeling ... hollow, man, real hollow.

the baby with its sticky paws
climbs on and over me and tastes of
crumbs and cream; my jaws and tongue
can't help but help him out
to oohs and aws, things pointed in my face,
the silly hats and boots i'm subject to,
the manic babbling of the human race.

they're kinda dumb but cute,
my humans, shoot - it would be great
if they only they talked mutt
and understood to leave me be those days
when tired as a log or dogged with pain
i really rather not sit up and beg,
roll over, dance, give paws, play dead....

cascadiabound said:

howling and dancing in preparation for the dog's life poems

Click to expand...

Puppies!!!!

butters said:

a dog's life...

is not all gnaw and woof, ......

..............snip*

roll over, dance, give paws, play dead....

Click to expand...

I like that one butters, really groovy ......*snap * snap *snap *snap

Dog Dreams

She lies sleeping at my feet
eyes closed, outstretched legs
twitching, mouthing small yips
and I wonder what she is chasing
and if she ever catches it.

An oldie from the 5 senses thread....

:Tribute To a Friend lost

you were my first friend
a hug, a gentle lick on my cheek
lapping up ice-cream shared
or my tears as I told you my troubles
you listened like no one else


here I sit
in the creaky leather chair
remeniscing in my mind
the times we would play
when I could sneak you into my room
tell you my stories
keeping each other warm

I can hear your panting whines
tears fall,
because
I love you still
even through the sterile stench of
bleach

I lie to you even though you
in your own way
know I lie...

you'll be fine
I promise
the words taste sour

the needle enters

It took six hours to dig
until two am I toiled
cutting away tree roots and branches
hands torn and bleeding
so you could lie beneath your favourite
place

overlooking the ocean
and the paddock
where you chased rabbits

Doggone!

So many old dogs have laid down,
so many before their time,
cars, critters, or just gone,
all to a world in the great beyond.

Each, carrying a piece of a heart,
leaving a sigh for the love in their eyes,
smile for eager greetings, kissing's,
a wish for more.

Daisy ... Staffordshire Bull Terrier

She was so small when I brought her home,
but sitting between my feet all spit and fire
at Bugsy's enquiring nose, his head bigger
than her whole body and he loved her.
Bugsy my big, bold Staffy who didn't like
any other dogs, was her slave from day one.
Daisy was mine, she claimed me, wouldn't
work in the show ring for anyone but me.
She loved to show, positive every applause
was for her and often it was, she was my beauty.
But oh she was black hearted out of the ring,
for all she was so small, barely showing size.
Ready to fight if another dog looked at her funny,
I was forever calling her off and apologising.
But she was my girl, stood between me and
a herd of bullocks, barking until they ran.
Stood between me and any approaching man,
just a warning that she was guarding me.

But she couldn't fight the big C
and I lost my darling, dearest girl.
Daisy I still mourn you, and I talk
to you, where you lie with all my
lost dogs, under the Hawthorn tree.

Seven Dog Lives

It is easy to forget that in the main we die only seven times more slowly than our dogs. Jim Harrison (1937 - 2016) - The Road Home


First Bobo, a cocker spaniel,
I remember only from pictures.
He ran way before we moved
to Canada when I was four.

Second Kizzie, a cockapoo, Mom got
when the family moved to Texas.
I only saw her on holidays and such
as I stayed in Canada. She lived
long and was with the folks when
they retired to British Columbia and was
into her teens before they put her down.

Third Sadie, 3/4 Newfie - 1/4 Bernese,
a big black dog, with a big appetite
for apples from a special tree and
the socks our daughter, a toddler
cast off around the house.
I still chuckle remembering
the scattered remnants lining
the farm lane that spring.
She was over ten, and in pain
when we put her down.
Her ashes remain in an urn in the garage.

Fourth Rizzo, a fencejump cross of
Gordon Setter and Belgian Shepherd,
my wife and daughter got him from
a friend, while I was off on a canoe trip.
A headstrong dog who would take off after
a scent or car to return when he pleased.
On leash, he'd almost pull you off your feet.
With age, he grew territorial and
after the third biting incident, I took
him to the vet to be put down.
But she gave him to an older lady
with a fenced yard who put thirty
pounds on him and he lived to
fourteen or fifteen.

Fifth Hailey, who was five when
we got her from the shelter.
A Border Collie - Shepherd cross
and definitely our daughter's dog.
She'd bounce foxlike through the fields
and on evening beach walks, loved
to fetch sticks we'd toss into the waves.
She was over fifteen and failing when
we put her down, days before
our daughter's wedding.
No urn this time.

Sixth Xena, a Shepherd-Collie cross
and beyond doubt a princess
but more sweetheart than warrior.
She has the canine equivalent
of ADD and a bark first policy
when something new appears
and will retrieve sticks or balls
until your arm falls off .
At over eight, she's running strong.

Seventh, Sam, a mostly Shepherd mix,
she's our most 'rescue' rescue dog,
smart, loyal and obedient
a wantobe lap dog with a feral streak.
She responds in kind to aggressive
dogs and we muzzle her on walks.
Now five she'll be with us for a
good while to continue the tally.


Another dog poem recycled from a while back and will not qualify for the privilege (??) of deciding on next challenge. Oh yeas and a DNA test revealed Xena has no shepherd rather a mix of collie/lab/corgi/Australian cattle dog.

Dinner and Bones

Tearing off to work
She sits outside with her hope
Work all day
One client after another
She lays in the grass
Sunning herself and hopes
A working lunch
Several phone calls
She remembers a bone
How good it was to chew
Afternnoon and more work
More clients to see
Phonecalls to make
She whines in her hope
When will he come home
Fighting through a sea of cars
A horn blares in anger
She thinks of dinner
And aches in her hope
The garage door opens
And sanctuary is at hand
She barks in elation
Her hopes have come alive
He's at the door
And her body wiggles all over
Smiles as he approaches
She barks, jumps, whines
Turns her loose
And she's gone in excitement
Standing tall as he watches
She laps the yard exactly thrice
Shaking his head, she'll be hungry
Why is she always so hungry
Heading inside
The day is done
Dinner and bones
Companionship and peace

transcendental

-

Joe

The farm was a doggie place
Nestled as it was at the end of a long winding road
There was Bernie, the dachshund, who believed he was human
All personality, so clever and charming
Shivering only when he knew you were watching him
Conning his way inside to lie under the woodstove
Momma and daughter sheepdogs, eyes hidden behind grey wool
Large masses of friendly fur, nudging at my legs as I came and went
But it was Joe I loved, with his soft caramel brown eyes that could see my soul.
He liked to greet my celica, resting his large head in my lap, door half open
Erect shepherd ears mobile as I scratched and talked quietly to him.
He joined me on the porch as I drank my tea,
Solid flank against my thigh, sighing deeply as he settled his chin on his paw
And when my tears flowed, Joe the shepherd did not wince when I held him tight
My tears wetting his black and brown shoulder
We buried him on the hill above the pond where the guinea hens cry
He tangled with a car on the road and had died alone.
The grave we dug as big and as deep as for a person. Our Joe.
He was never just a dog.
He made the farm a home.

The tears come unbidden,
this thread, this damned thread.
I miss you Good Boy.

Senna Jawa said:

-

my friends cheerfully insisted
get yourself a dog

my puppy jumps up and down
on snow

my friends' faces are all wrinkles
don't let him suffer anymore

oh doggy!



does God have friends?

Senna Jawa,
2019-02-09​

​

-​

Click to expand...

This for me is exceptional the paring back of all extraneous information but the narrative is still perfectly formed with the reader adding all the info to make it as personal a piece to each individual is damn good writing,

I wonder what effect it would have without the

“Oh doggy”

Line, but it adds humanity and anguish from the “N”s perspective that it might miss in the piece without the line,

Thanks for the read

HarryHill said:

The tears come unbidden,
this thread, this damned thread.
I miss you Good Boy.

Click to expand...

I didn’t quite get there but it was a tough thread but brilliant in the humanity, strange we often treat our pets better than we treat other people

Bugsy, then Daisy, her daughter Jenny
and her grandson Biffo,
all pedigrees with grand names
for the show ring.
Followed by Sidney,Chloe, Mabel and Lulu,
with no grand names, all rescued Staffies
but loved just the same.
Always room for just one more.

todski28 said:

This for me is exceptional the paring back of all extraneous information but the narrative is still perfectly formed with the reader adding all the info to make it as personal a piece to each individual is damn good writing,

I wonder what effect it would have without the

“Oh doggy”

Line, but it adds humanity and anguish from the “N”s perspective that it might miss in the piece without the line,

Thanks for the read

Click to expand...

Thank YOU, todski.

The construction of the poem is:
--
-


-
--
Yes, it's up to the readers to fill up the story (the events 1 & 2). The story is framed by the title and the question.

HarryHill said:

The tears come unbidden,
this thread, this damned thread.
I miss you Good Boy.

Click to expand...

Yup and I do believe "Old Yeller" was the first time I cried at a movie.

Piscator said:

Yup and I do believe "Old Yeller" was the first time I cried at a movie.

Click to expand...

The Incredible Journey was mine, the original English version before Disney messed around with it (changed the breed of dog and the story!!)

Looks like that's you Harryhill. You're up next.

And btw, everyone, thank you so much for sharing on this thread. We are all in good company here. We have a dog, Angel. Ugliest mutt ever, but she's our ugly mutt. She's sweet as hell, loves to play, walk, do tricks, and cuddle.

She's also the the first dog in my family since 1983. Prior to that, there were 7 others over the years.

Again, thank you all for sharing.

A repost from my 6t thread here in this forum.
http://forum.literotica.com/showthread.php?t=1371092&page=8




Ancient Contracts



That puppy is Buster, loves his people
Enthusiastic, smart, fun, and funny
Knows his place within his home

Guardian, companion, hunter
Loyal, attentive, forgiving, brave
These are the ways of the world

Saved his master from tragedy
On a small stretch of highway
The best a dog could give

All the dogs that have come before
Beau, Easy, Duke, Ginger, Bailey
Look on with pride, from heaven above

You honored them all, Buster
Your love and loyalty proven
You've earned your home and hearth

That's a good boy.

Mrtenant said:

Looks like that's you Harryhill. You're up next.

And btw, everyone, thank you so much for sharing on this thread. We are all in good company here. We have a dog, Angel. Ugliest mutt ever, but she's our ugly mutt. She's sweet as hell, loves to play, walk, do tricks, and cuddle.

She's also the the first dog in my family since 1983. Prior to that, there were 7 others over the years.

Again, thank you all for sharing.

Click to expand...

..
That was only the beginning of a poem, Cassie's just before touched something not healed yet and melted my original plan.

I'd like to assign my win to toddski 'cause we're just repeating ops, time for some fresh playa

HarryHill said:

..
That was only the beginning of a poem, Cassie's just before touched something not healed yet and melted my original plan.

I'd like to assign my win to toddski 'cause we're just repeating ops, time for some fresh playa

Click to expand...

Thrown under the bus without even a thought

I’ll try have something by my afternoon

HarryHill said:

The tears come unbidden,
this thread, this damned thread.
I miss you Good Boy.

Click to expand...

..
Paddy 10/14/2017

The good boy has gone down,
laid to rest beside the old white bear,
too soon, too fucking soon

I worked in the garden 'til the last light left earth,
walked to the house in the faint sunset,
his ghost flitting in the shadows,
this third night of his demise,
this third day of heart break.