The Wolf in Them - July 20 2026

 

The Wolf in Them

July 20 2026

The dogs’ default is sleep.

They are predators

who, when prey is scarce

don’t expend energy

they conserve it.

Because nature is frugal,

the calculus of survival

intuitive.

But these coddled wolves

didn't learn to hunt

and never killed.

Preferring table scraps and chew toys

to newly downed prey,

they acquired no taste

for steaming viscera,

brains jiggling with fat,

eyeballs freshly plucked.

So they sleep,

snoring in their warm soft beds

like little plush toys,

content to wait

until dinner is served.

The wolf in them rests,

their claws trimmed

teeth constrained

legs lazily out-stretched.

Instead of pursuing prey

they've perfected puppy eyes,

have learned to lurk and beg,

can expertly sniff out

the kibble that fell.

Good dog, we say

and pat them on the head.

They look pleased,

happily wagging their tails

then trotting off to bed.

In the mood to write, but nothing comes to mind. So a little nonsense to satisfy the urge. I guess my default is a dog poem!

Not worthy of Billy Collins, of course, but at least we have a shared sensibility.(https://books.google.com/books/about/Dog_Show.html?id=QaJREQAAQBAJ)

My dogs are really gourmands, not gourmets. So they’d happily eat guts, brains, and eyeballs. Along with their more familiar fare: shit, vomit, garbage, and used condoms.  But then not all dogs are Labs! (Who, if you're unfamiliar, have insatiable appetites and cast iron stomachs.) Some dogs -- hard as it is for me to believe -- actually do have discerning palates and delicate guts 

Rufus and Peanut taking a well-earned rest