Raising Charley

For your reading pleasure, today's blog post is in free verse form. I've no idea why. That's just how it started and kept on going.

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Charley gets up at three (a.m.) to pee

He's quite big now, but the puppy-sized bladder 

still won't hold it for long

Then, if we're lucky, he will settle back down 

for a three-hour nap with Tim

If we're not lucky

then the day has begun.

Charley's day begins in a frenzy

All teeth and barks and romping around

Two cups of dog food are scarfed down 

as though he is starving

In and out and in and out the back door

He cannot make up his little mind

where to play.

Ever concerned for my rugs

I let him in and out 

and in and out the back door

Because Charley is not completely trained

Yet.

Three months old, Charley is enormous and larger than life 

When breakfast is served, he jumps and turns in circles of delight

Someday soon he's going to clunk his head on the table

I just know it

Charley loves a good gladiator romp

with Hank

Hank does not.

As he grows

Charley's body is always out of proportion

His legs are still short

Which makes him cute

And his little back legs now move independently

Instead of the puppy scamper

That I loved so much.

When darkness falls, Charley needs comfort.

Mama's feet

Daddy's lap

Anywhere that he can snuggle before bedtime

and kennel are announced.

And the day is over.

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Charley-on-a-Harley is what I've taken to calling him. It fits.

- Catherine