no fanfare for him, just a roadside resting place, until the lizards, flies and turkey vultures clean him up...no walks on the beach with a pampering owner, no lap dog duties licking dirty feet; no trips to the vet for shots, peticures,no fancy feasts or gourmet dog food..no.. this canine lived by his wits..and lived well by the luxurious coat he wears...he wanders at night, sometimes alone, looking for food and enlightenment as though led by a spirit..always wary of humans and keeping a respectful distance..when one dies ten other take his place...he's intelligent and adaptive..and still we invade his territory, bring citified stupidity to the country..but he is patient and a willing teacher..to those who want to learn...I'M a lean dog, a keen dog, a wild dog, and lone; I'm a rough dog, a tough dog, hunting on my own; I'm a bad dog, a mad dog, teasing silly sheep; I love to sit and bay the moon, to keep fat souls from sleep. I'll never be a lap dog, licking dirty feet, a sleek dog, a meek dog, cringing for my meat, Not for me the fireside, the well-filled plate, But shut door, and sharp stone, and cuff and kick, and hate. Not for me the other dogs, running by my side, Some have run a short while, but none of them would bide. O mine is still the lone trail, the hard trail, the best, Wide wind, and wild stars, and hunger of the quest! irene r mcleod
gone to that great wilderness in the sky, as brother crow and I watch and ponder his greatness..
still, he's no match for a car....
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