If You Want To Know What I Think


I enjoy Haikus, short Japanese poems, often on a subject in nature. They have three non rhyming lines. The first and third lines have five syllables. The second line has seven. I often take liberties with this form of poetry by rhyming or increasing them to three verses. I wrote this three verse Haiku after a weekend of dog sitting Jake for my daughter and son-in-law. Jake is a year old Aussie, bred to herd whatever needs herding. Jake needs lots of exercise. If Jake doesn’t get a thorough workout one way, he will get it another.

Dog sitting spastic
year old Australian Shepherd
Stop, you’re herding me

Meows, growls, hissing
will not deter pup’s torments
Cat, catatonic

Stairs more hazardous
straddling a canine’s snout
Too wet and nosey

Husband Paul thought it was a good idea to have a sleep over with our three youngest grandkids. I’m always up for grandkids, but this evening there would be an additional grand. Year old Jake was coming for the weekend. Daughter Jenna and husband Bryon were off for an anniversary getaway. Also in this mix is the resident cat, Lily. She doesn’t like anyone but me, which is very strange. I’ve been trying to disown her since Jenna brought her here temporarily eight years ago.

This menagerie hit while Paul was running errands. Luke 6, Mac 5 and Maddie 3 came fully charged. Jake always is. When he discovered the kids, he became a hairy spinning top on spring loaded shoes, high on a case of 5 Hour Energy. He barked as he bounced like a soprano on a pogo stick. Wiley Coyote and the name ACME came to mind. Three hyped up kids running amok in a small house with a basement was stimulation overload for Jake. This was his first job! Or so he thought. First he had to gather them, and then he had to figure out where to put them.

I tried to keep the kids and the dog on separate levels but in their hyper excitement they couldn’t remember to close that basement door. Up and down I went trying to corral somebody, anybody. The problem was, so did Jake. If he wasn’t distracted, there was no way to keep him from getting past that door. I couldn’t close it fast enough. So most of my trips up and down the stairs were aided by lots of nips at my ankles and if I wasn’t moving fast enough, I got crotched.

The kids tried playing Twister. So did Jake. Right foot on green circle. Left hand on blue circle. Left foot in dog’s mouth. Right foot on red circle. Dog’s nose in boy’s groin… (Note: call Homeland Security. Canine nose for pat down woes?)

We ditched Twister. I tried separation again; kids downstairs, dog upstairs. That lasted about five minutes. Someone wanted crackers. Someone else wanted juice. Light sabers were called for. The three grandchildren were full into Star Wars play. They were jumping on and off the jumping couch and chair (yes, I have furniture just for that purpose), challenging all bad droids and using The Force to win the day. I was on a mission for supplies. I ran up the stairs quietly, slowly turned the knob and cracked the door. Boom! My head met the door like a hammer. Jake stretched that two inch opening wide enough to pin me against the stairwell wall and give him room to bound down the steps two at a time, barking with a laugh that said, ‘TA DA! You can’t stop an Aussie. We’re fast and saucy. For herding’s sake, just call on Jake!”

He jumped into the action like a greyhound on speed. To quote my late Father, “If he had looked back, he’d have run through himself.” In the small confines he had to use his cutting abilities to stop and change directions sometimes in mid air. Ninja Dog! The kids jumped from couch to chair to floor and back to the couch again. For all his good intentions, Jake simply didn’t understand the situation. It had to be frustrating for the poor fellow. Young as he is, he wanted to show he had skills. But the kids weren’t cooperative. To distract him I thought about pouring a bowl full of marbles out on the kitchen floor and telling Jake to “get em!” That would challenge his herding instincts. Though I think Shepherds only herd living things, I don’t know if Jake would have known the difference in his state of arousal.

Lily? She dispatched Jake from under my bed with a gutter growl and a flurry of lethal claw slaps. I read her thoughts “Herd a cat? Fatuous, addlepated, asinine, canine cretin.”