Archives for July 2012

Dog In the Fog, and Ebenezer In the Freezer — unpublished verse


I had just settled in
with a book to begin
when old Rover whined by the rear door.

I glanced up at the clock,
gave the table a sock,
called, “Here, Rover,” but he just whined more.

First I tried to ignore him,
then began to deplore him,
as he paced back and forth unperturbed.

I was now in a muddle,
for I wanted no puddle,
and his yelps through the house they reverbed.

Grabbing leash from the hook,
I gave Rover a look
as I snapped the leash fast to his collar.

When I opened the door,
he jumped out to explore,
and he bounded away with a holler.

Yes, the leash got away,
and I heard Rover bay.
He was lost in the fog, that was certain.

So I looked all about,
called him back with a shout,
but the fog was as thick as a curtain.

When your leash is in hand,
most dogs mind one just grand,
and are then absolutely ‘bossible’.

But if he gets away,
one will rue that sad day.
A loose dog in the fog is impossible!



Johnny’s cat’s Ebenezer
and young John loves to tease her,
so he pulls her long tail
Just to hear her shrill wail.
He does nothing at all that will please her.

Ebby follows him ’round
like an old blue tick hound,
yet he treats her so bad,
You would think she’d get mad,
but to Johnny her spirit is bound.

Mom and dad went out late
on their weekly show date.
John was left on his own,
Told, “Do not use the phone,
and be sure that you wash out your plate.”

Johnny played with his games,
called the cat nasty names.
Then when boredom set in,
He sat scratching his chin,
till his active young mind came aflame.

Johnny hatched up a plan
just as fast as you can.
He lured Ebby, therefore,
To the freezer front door,
brought out cat food of which Eb’s a fan.

He enticed her inside
with a snacker’s landslide.
She succumbed to this feast
Like a reasonable beast,
so much food, she would need a bromide.

Johnny slammed the big door
with an ear-clapping roar;
soon poor Ebby turned blue
Like a frozen igloo,
curled like a snowball on the floor.

Later on he peeked in
and to Johnny’s chagrin
there stood Eb on her toes
He could tell she was froze
’cause she looked like an icy penquin.

He threw open the door
and she rolled ‘cross the floor.
Poor John thought she was dead,
But still using his head,
he massaged Eb, her life to restore.

When his parents arrived,
poor old Eb had revived.
Now John knows Ebenezer
Doesn’t go in the freezer,
and he’s thankful that Ebby’s alive.