Barking Dog

Aug 18 2015

There is always a barking dog

in street scenes

on camera.

Especially after dark;

a signal that this is authentic

with a measure of menace

stylish noir.

I know this

because my dog, sprawled asleep at my side as I watch

bolts

with every pan, zoom, dissolve

of hooker alley, or suburban lawn,

racing to the door

to defend our territory.

After all these years

she still doesn't get TV.

There is no place for art, allegory, impression

in the life of a dog.

She is all about present time.

Is acutely attuned to her kind.

Occupies either inside

or out;

because there is an order to the world

and it cannot vary.

She seems to derive great joy

from all the excitement.

And struts back in triumph, eyes bright, tail wagging

naturally expecting my thanks.

She has kept us safe, after all

the bad guys at bay.

While I feel guilty for waking her,

my trigger-finger

not fast enough to mute.

And feel annoyed

at foley artists who toy

with barking dogs,

don't trust the audience.

Fortunately, the dog never tires of this,

a modern-day Lassie

basking in gratitude

for saving Timmy from the well.

Then takes her well-earned rest,

monopolizing the couch

and returning to sleep, again.

To puppy dreams

of strangled barks, and running legs.

Her own cliff-hanger/who-dun-it, I'm sure,

in which the squirrel always gets caught

and dinner is continuously served.

She's actually a pretty useless watchdog; even though she thinks she's a big shot.

Frankly, I would have thought she'd have figured this out after all these years. A couple of times, she's even paused, nosing the speaker for a second before racing out. But the connection fails: if it's another dog, then it must be outside. It must be both comforting and useful to have the world so rigidly ordered, everything categorical. Sure, we're far more capable of imagination and plasticity of mind; but wouldn't it be a relief just keeping things simple like that, sometimes?!!

It's a silly poem, with a cheap ending. But since I only rarely indulge in a dog poem (I'd write a lot more, if I let myself!), any kind of silliness is allowed.