A poem

She looks at me imploringly,
With eyes so big and sad,
‘Why can’t I have something off your plate?
It’s not as if I’ve been bad.’
How do you explain to a four legged babe
That the change is for her own good?
That titbits and biscuits are out of bounds
‘Til the stomach acts as it should.
We thought we’d turned a corner,
The treat disappeared in a blur,
But twenty four hours later
We were right back where we were.
It’s not her fault, it’s just bad luck,
She’s getting on you see,
The tummy can’t handle what it did,
As she rests her head on my knee:
‘One little bite surely can’t hurt,’
Is what she seems to say
But she’s not the one clearing up
When it comes out the other way.
No mess indoors, she’s good like that,
As she tucks in to boring rice
No doubt dreaming of chicken meat
Or a chunk of steak would be nice.
We’ve looked it up and there’s nothing amiss
To suggest something is flagging,
Her eyes are bright, her nose is cold,
And the tail is constantly wagging.
A few more days, we made progress today,
Almost normal, but not quite right,
Gently and slowly does it now,
Then her treats can see the light.
Not too many, and under control,
No doubt she may sulk and whine,
But realise that just by looking cute
She won’t get fed all the time.

Note:
Maggie’s OK, but at 15 appears to have developed a delicate stomach which we are trying to sort out by natural remedies that have worked in the past. She’s had a sample of the Greek yogurt I bought earlier and seemed to like that. Today she’s had chicken and rice, and polished that off too. There is also the chance that she is picking up on anxiety issues due to the Coronavirus outbreak so we are trying to act as normal a possible and keep to our usual routine.

About pensitivity101

I am a retired number cruncher with a vivid imagination and wacky sense of humour which extends to short stories and poetry. I love to cook and am a bit of a dog whisperer as I get on better with them than people sometimes! We have an elderly dog called Maggie who adopted us as a 7 week old pup in March 2005. From 2014 to 2017 'Home' was a 41 foot narrow boat where we made strong friendships both on and off the water. We were close to nature enjoying swan and duck families for neighbours, and it was a fascinating chapter in our lives. We now reside in a small bungalow on the Lincolnshire coast where we have forged new friendships and interests.
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39 Responses to A poem

  1. This is such an adorable poem, Di. I had to put my younger son on a diet when he was ten. He had been on a lot of cortizone and was also overeating. He blew up like a balloon. It was very hard trying to explain to him why he needed to change his diet, a bit like your experience with Maggie. They make you feel so jolly guilty.

    • She does, and we have given her small portions of rice sometimes with chicken throughout the day in the hope to ‘solid up’ her motions. We both think a course of antibiotics is the last thing she needs right now as the last lot probably started all this.

  2. Chris Hall says:

    Aw, shame. So hard when you can’t explain.

  3. fransiweinstein says:

    When they look at you with those eyes it is SO hard not to give them what they want. But of course we love them and that means we have to stay resolute. Glad she’s on the mens. She has you to thank for that, tough as it is to say no.

    • She’s whinging at me because she wants something nice, like biscuits or a chew, but we daren’t until we can get one solid motion from her. She’s had four small portions of rice, two with chicken, plus the Greek yogurt and a slice of chicken on its own. Tomorrow will be more of the same, but more chunky chicken as I’m making curry and always give her some before I add anything else. I’ve taken two breasts out in readiness anyway.

  4. Aw, the sweet beautiful girl! 😦 I’ve had people tell me it’s a bad habit to get into – hand feeding your dog from your plate, but who can resist the huge sad puppy dog eyes? The soft whine, the paw on the knee and the pleading look? It takes a harder heart than mine for sure. But when we discover they can no longer digest the tidbits we may slip them, then your way is the best. Feeding what is proper, instead of what is desired. You’ve put your finger on something that was puzzling me though. The ANXIETY factor. Ziggy and Pudge both have begun to hack and cough quite often (Pudge is almost non-stop unless he feels REALLY SECURE). I was wondering about environmental factors because of where I live (next to a counter top shop and that horrible truck yard), but now I’m wondering if it is the stress they feel rolling off me in waves and their overall anxiety. I’ve had them one year and a month (a bit more) now, and Ziggy has severe separation anxiety for whatever reason. I suspect Pudge is affected by that too – maybe from their abandonment before I got them. Hmmmm. Something to reflect on surely. Thanks! 🙂

    • Apparently it’s not uncommon for pets to pick up on our moods, and I know when I’m upset, Maggie is a little subdued. We thought having the beach so close would be great for Maggie and she could swim whenever she wanted. Seems she’s allergic to the sand and there is a lot of it between the prom and the water!
      Hope you and your furbabies are OK Melanie,

  5. jenanita01 says:

    Maggie is in such good hands, and I’m sure she will be back to normal in no time!

  6. Sadje says:

    Take care Di. Hope Maggie is 100% fine soon.

  7. murisopsis says:

    Love the poem! Too bad she can’t tolerate the rich foods. That happens to dogs as they age – just like people. I’m not able to handle the spicy food any more…

  8. Sue Vincent says:

    Bless her… (and, miracles will never cease, after subscribeing to your blog YEARS ago… I got my first email notification today!).

  9. ManyaUchil says:

    Wow your dog is so cute, and your poetry so wonderful.

  10. Aww bless her. She looks like such a beautiful and loyal dog. Wonderful poem. Really enjoyed reading it. I will keep following your blog and look forward to reading more poems!

    You might enjoy this little poem:

    My dog smiles. He does. I know it.
    I’m not just saying this because I’m a poet.
    My dog’s an intelligent exceptional beast
    He knows how to wag when he wants a few treats
    And then when he smiles he gets a few more
    And sits there and begs and lifts up his paw
    I smile, he smiles. We both do the same
    He knows what to do when I call out his name
    And don’t think I’m here just making things up
    He’s been doing all this since he was a pup
    He does. Don’t laugh. You know it, I know it.
    I’m not just saying this because I’m a poet.
    My dog’s an ingenious intelligent friend
    Yes, sometimes he drives me around the bend
    But he’s the one who’s always there
    Good day, bad day, he doesn’t care
    He sits and waits until I get home
    A smile on his face and a great big bone.

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