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Dogs have been part of my life since my toddler years. My parent’s first dog was an Old English Sheepdog they named Sean. After Sean crossed the Rainbow Bridge, our next dog was a Shi Tzu and West Highland Terrier mix. He had black fur with white fur accenting his beard and part of his chest. I named him Lickers. Lickers was part of my family from the time I was five until I was 25. That’s right — Lickers lived for 20 years.
Four years into our marriage, my husband Bill and I adopted an Aussie Shepherd and Sheltie mix we named Teddy. Several years after we brought Teddy into our lives, we adopted a Yellow Labrador and Pit Bull mix, also known as a Labrabull, named Jenny. They were fantastic dogs. Teddy was quiet and afraid of his own shadow, while Jenny’s loud bark dominated his and our daily life.
A few years after Teddy and Jenny walked over the Rainbow Bridge to meet and play with Sean and Lickers, Bill and I adopted a Bombay cat for our daughter the shelter had named Puma Thurman— the was too incredible to change. While we all love Puma, I miss having a dog in my life. I love all animals, but dogs infuse me with such an intense joy and love.
Which is why Republican South Dakota governor and the state’s 1990 Snow Queen Kristi Noem’s revelation that she killed her puppy Cricket with a shotgun in a gravel pit nauseates and infuriates me. Dogs of all breeds only want to please and love their owners. Unlike the majority of human beings, dogs remain unconditional and adore their owners no matter who the owner is. Remember that even Hitler had a dog he named Blondie. She remained loyal to him up to when he killed her.
We already knew Noem was a terrible governor and person. Whether she was uniting with other GOP governors who were okey-dokey with ignoring public health regulations and their 6th-grade science education during the Covid pandemic or being banished by her state’s Rosebud Sioux Tribe, Oglala Sioux Tribe, Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe and Standing Rock Sioux Tribe, Noem’s vileness was already apparent. But Noem killing Cricket along with a goat who was stinky demonstrates she’s also a psychopath.
In her quest to secure her MAGA worthiness where the cruelty is the point, Noem instead has secured public outrage and most likely will not receive the Vice President slot on inmate number P01135809’s Presidential ticket. On second thought, inmate number P01135809 hates dogs too. Perhaps that was the point in Noem sharing this reprehensible story that has even disgusted her fellow conservatives.
Noem’s callous actions toward two defenseless animals (Cricket was only a puppy!) drain me. I don’t want them to though. Again, I turn to art and Salman Rushdie who proves in his memoir Knife that art restores, heals, transforms and works stronger than violence. For dog lovers and just plain nice people, the poem I want to share today by John Brehm honors our incredible and lovable canine pals.
After reading the poem, you can write and then share your own poem, short short or short essay about your dog or dogs overall in the comments section. If you prefer other animals like cats or birds, you can write your poem, short short or short essay about them instead.
“If Feeling Isn’t In It” by John Brehm
You can take it away, as far as I'm concerned—I'd rather spend the afternoon with a nice dog. I'm not kidding. Dogs have what a lot of poems lack: excitements and responses, a sense of play, the ability to impart warmth, elation . . . .
Howard Moss
Dogs will also lick your face if you let them.
Their bodies will shiver with happiness.
A simple walk in the park is just about
the height of contentment for them, followed
by a bowl of food, a bowl of water,
a place to curl up and sleep. Someone
to scratch them where they can't reach
and smooth their foreheads and talk to them.
Dogs also have a natural dislike of mailmen
and other bringers of bad news and will
bite them on your behalf. Dogs can smell
fear and also love with perfect accuracy.
There is no use pretending with them.
Nor do they pretend. If a dog is happy
or sad or nervous or bored or ashamed
or sunk in contemplation, everybody knows it.
They make no secret of themselves.
You can even tell what they're dreaming about
by the way their legs jerk and try to run
on the slippery ground of sleep.
Nor are they given to pretentious self-importance.
They don't try to impress you with how serious
or sensitive they are. They just feel everything
full blast. Everything is off the charts
with them. More than once I've seen a dog
waiting for its owner outside a café
practically implode with worry. “Oh, God,
what if she doesn't come back this time?
What will I do? Who will take care of me?
I loved her so much and now she's gone
and I'm tied to a post surrounded by people
who don't look or smell or sound like her at all.”
And when she does come, what a flurry
of commotion, what a chorus of yelping
and cooing and leaps straight up into the air!
It's almost unbearable, this sudden
fullness after such total loss, to see
the world made whole again by a hand
on the shoulder and a voice like no other.
Bruce is beside himself with glee & sends his best regards 😂