Digger dog

A recent prompt for the 12-poems-in-12-months challenge was to include rhyme, alliteration and assonance.

I wrote mine about an event that has also been the subject of a blog post here.

Digger Dog

Digger the dog was a pesky pup,
After six mad months, her owners despaired.
We’d just lost a dog, so we called them up
and took on this terrier, scruffy white-haired.

Would she be too lively for our other dog?
who'd aged since her friend died and left her alone.
But they soon set up doggy dialogue
and started to play… So we took her home.
Chinese crested cur crossed with a jumping Jack Russell
And bold Border terrier: crazy cocktail.
When both dogs engaged in a tug-of-war tussle
her feathered tail, flag-like, would frolic and flail.

Yappily happily playing together,
Larking, and barking on hearing their names.
Scattily, battily scampering, whether
in get-the-rat chases or growly games.

Itchy or twitchy? We thought she was jittery,
combed out her coat, and I kept it well-trimmed.
We thought no more of it; she always was skittery.
Was it a symptom, those fidgety limbs?

Or was it that tractor, all afternoon grumbling,
Spraying the crops in the neighbouring field?
But the tractor sprayed crops before: harmlessly rumbling.
The farmer would say if we needed to shield.
dog digging
Diggs threw up and started a terrible tic-ing.
A puddle appeared and her brown eyes met mine.
“What’s happening, Mum?” Now both back legs were kicking.
Her furry friend watched with a whimpering whine.

I crooned mindless, soothing sounds on that last ride,
in the back of the car as she panted and writhed.
At the vet’s she lay twitching, though drugged but still terrified.
I stroked her damp pelt as our little dog died.

No canine cacophony marked our return.
Old dog seemed to know she was once more alone.
Our neighbour’s young daughter put out a bright lantern
that night by our door, to light Digger’s way home.

Night screeches are common in fields hereabout.
Owls hoot. Vixens shriek out a mating call.
Come morning, the lamp on our doorstep was out,
and the old dog was wagging her tail in the hall.

16 thoughts on “Digger dog

    1. It was sad. Pickle had bonded well with Digger, in spite of our initial fears that she’d be too lively for the arthritic old girl. (Pickle was 15 when Digger died.) A favourite game consisted of both dogs rolling on their backs and nudging each other with their noses.

      Liked by 1 person

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