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When she first showed up at our cabin, this
dog was starved, bug-infested, and sad, motivating this poem. She kept coming back every weekend. We named her
"Boomerang", and she has become an important part of our family. We now have seven "sad tails" and Boomer is one
of the best. Loyalty is her greatest asset. And since she was so hungry when she arrived, she makes sure she never
misses a meal.
WELFARE
She didn't have no breeding
Her mind was somewhat
lame
Just looking for a handout
I guess Welfare was her name.
Too long, too low, too something . . .
A look of dull despair
A dumpster dog, a hound,
a tramp.
No three would make a pair.
And yet, no mean bone in her.
No bones at all, I'd bet
No one could easily take her in
Be
rid, without regret.
If she'd been born a Lassie
A Rin Tin Tin, by birth
A Benji, Toto, CLASSIE . . .
Instead
of "What on Earth?"
Her fate would be determined
Her life would be a breeze
But she was born a cur, and so
She'll
live, and die, with fleas.
Marcia Hodgson |
