Barkley
Barkley's a "special-needs" kind of dog,
The kind who gets so excited wanting to make you happy,
That she swings her big black tail back and forth, back and forth,
Into and against whatever is most fragile in the vicinity.
The kind who leaps up on the bed with you,
Toenails in your bare tummy,
Full of so much love that she wants to drool it on your eyelids.
She gets so excited that you're giving her any attention,
That she doesn't hear the differences in all the S-words,
And "Sit," and "Stay," and all the rest turn into "Speak!"
And big deep woofings curl happily from her chest,
Brown eyes full of love, longing for praise,
As her tail crashes unnoticed into her dish
Making water mysteriously appear in splatters all over the floor.
But then, her Mama Michelle is a very special kind of woman,
The kind who never had a dog before,
But took in a puppy with toes the size of turnips,
And paid for all the life-saving medical treatment
The growing black mound of fur required,
Because she fell into a pair of brown eyes and a puddle of love.
Energy, enthusiasm, excitement--and everything that comes
With a big black adolescent mixed-breed part-Lab-part-Husky housemate--
Pile into the miniature back seat of Mama's periwinkle-blue Eagle,
Strapped in a car harness, off again to obedience school,
Where the instructor will ask for an automatic sit and an off-leash stay,
And Barkley will obediently WOOF and wag her tail with a toothy doggy-grin.
She's getting better.
She's beginning to understand, because of the patience of an incredible lady.
That incredible lady wonders, sometimes, if it's fair to ask me to "put up with" her dog.
What a question!
When I see her, arms wrapped around her beloved black-furred teenager,
Loving, cuddling, gently explaining yet again that "Down!" means "Down!"
And I watch her laugh in pleasure at the little successes,
And see the recognition in the eyes of the veterinarian who knows the family,
And watch as, gradually, Barkley begins to sit and stay and heel and lie down,
I feel my heart overflow.
This is the kind of lady I want around my children.
This is the kind of lady I want to share my life with.
Patience, compassion, determination, persistance, pure love
Even in the face of mistakes and shortcomings . . .
How could it be less than a miracle,
To ask me to "put up" with these??
And, because of the steady workings of this incredible woman,
I find myself in the park, holding a bright blue leash,
Sprinting in the sunshine beside a big black dog,
Eyes shining, tongue lolling--hers, not mine, of course!
And climbing on a slippery stone ledge, precariously balanced beside the deeper part of the pond
Just to coax the suddenly-timid country dog into the coolness of the city water,
And generally having a splendid time--
All because of this woman, this goddess, this patient loving miracle
Who has chosen to share that love with me as well.
Yeah, I think I can put up with that!
10:33 a.m., Tuesday, May 2, 2000
Return to the Library.
Return to the Front Door.
E-mail me at Weavre@graffiti.net