|
|
| |
| rover, watch, novice, fourth, fawn over her.Image from the Internet.
The opening poem contains all the words (or variations of them) from today's Jumble.
Comments are welcomed! And couching them in Poetry is definitely NOT required.
Do not explicitly reveal any of the actual answer words until after closing time, but embedding them surreptitiously in comment sentences is encouraged.
14 comments:
She reminds me of Faline, Bambi's little friend. Such a cute little fawn;no wonder he was so fond of her.
"'Ha-ha'in' over Fur"
We loved to watch our dog "Rover" do his tricks.
He wasn't very good; that made him funny.
He remained a novice, whether balls or sticks.
He'd been fourth in his litter; that made him "runty."
~ OMK
"More 'Rover'..."
We saw how he stumbled when chasing a grounder.
Sticks were no easier; this hound was no "Sounder."
He may be just as loyal. He's not been put to the test.
Maybe we'll try to lose him. Put him on a quest.
Will he live in a field, adopt a barn, settle for any old place?
Maybe he'll just vanish, y'know--disappear without a trace....
~ OMK
"Complex Romance"
Ruth was asked to watch over Rover
and do her best to get him sober.
For this task she was just a novice,
with no talent as a goddess.
So she decided on July Fourth
to take Rover with her up north
to a spa where each day at dawn
the staff would over him fawn.
Ruth watched him slowly recover
and realized he'd be a sweet lover.
So after he was was cured she proposed,
and Rover, entirely composed,
said, yes, thank you, dear Ruth,
you've returned me to the joy of my youth.
Thank you, for getting me sober,
and I'd love to become your dear Rover.
"More 'Rover,' again..."
Nine times in ten a dog imprints on the folks he's near.
But it's not guaranteed. There's a mystery factor.
Sometimes he just hangs out, waiting for his dear
one, his true heart, to show, the one he'll attract to
himself--and likewise feel bonded. Finding such vesting,
he'll break "normal" rules to follow his blessing.
~ OMK
Misty ~
I had to re-read your tale of Ruth & Rover to be sure they were a human couple.
LOL, it is so very hard to separate the name "Rover" from its typical canine usage, and when Ruth found a staff that would "fawn" over him, he seemed certain to be a dog undergoing vet care & grooming.
But when I got it straight--and understood that Ruth was taking on the job normally assumed by one of Wilbur's AA sponsors--it all added up as a different (and rather sweet) sort of bride-and-grooming!
~ OMK
Well, you're right, Ol' Man Keith, there are not many guys named Rover in this country, so this is an unusual fellow. But glad it soon became clear that these were humans after all. I mean, how man female dogs drive their male partner to a spa on the Fourth of July? None that I know or have ever heard of.
Sandy ~
I loved Bambi which, if memory is accurate, was the first movie my parents took me to see.
Was it Bambi's mom--or his grand stag father--who was killed by the hunters? I just recall filling terribly sad at that part.
Oh. Wait. Maybe Snow White was my first. I can't be sure. The scary parts of that one were really nightmarish--the transformation of the wicked queen in her magical Mirror and the trees coming to life during her frightful escape! Those still give me chills.
But then there was Pinnochio. Dang! Maybe that was my first. All my "first" movie impressions were of Disney films. I think that one had the island where bad boys were kept. There was a sly fox and--what?--a cat?
Oh, and there was one really frightening Superman cartoon.
It was the one where Superman seems to have lost his strength. He was tied up and being dipped by a crane into a large cauldron.
I was sitting too close to the large movie screen, so the images were all skewed crazily while "Supie" was being lowered to the accompaniment of loud throbbing music.
Aargh!
What were your earliest movie memories?
~ OMK
Well, No, Misty, I wasn't that silly!
Of course, no female dogs can drive their male doggy partners anywhere.
I figured Ruth was a female human driving the dog she "was asked to watch over" to his spa date.
I reckoned there was a patriotic "special" to celebrate the Fourth, that he'd probably get a red-white-'n'-blue bandanna with his blow-dry...
No, I wasn't that silly.
~ OMK
Just sent you a long Rover message, only to have it disappear when I tried to send it. Well, never mind. Let's just hope that your cute Rover will be all right and let it go at that. And, have a good day!
OMK, meant to say that it was my Rover poem that was silly: how many guys are ever named Rover, for heaven's sake? So your Rover makes a lot more sense. Just hope your folks don't let that sweet stumbling dog get lost--and will look for him and bring him home and get him some training. Did you train your pups? And how, with lessons or own your own?
We trained our larger dogs, the Goldens.
The little guys were rescues, so I suppose we skipped the training because they were already two or more years old, no longer puppies.
Curiously, both our Goldens, "Lady" and "Maggie," took first place in their respective obedience classes--sequentially, 12 years apart.
I wonder if those trainers have a secret way of convincing every owner that their dog has won first place?!
Turns out Lady was always sharp, smart, and obedient. She spent her years with us being a great joy and helping around the house with all sorts of little chores, including bringing me my newspaper every morning, warning of strangers approaching the house, etc.
Maggie, OTOH, is a pain. Everything is about HER. She wakes us at night with her barking and whining. We don't mind when she needs to go out and do her biz'ness. But most of the time she just wants companionship--at 4 and 5 in the morning.
Maggie is the model for my Rover poem.
She has decided she is not my dog, and she isn't my wife's.
We waited for her to choose one over the other. But No, she waited until my Wife's mother came to live with us, and she latched on to her.
Most days, Maggie lies by Jessie's side to receive hours of steady petting.
All well and good, but it is my wife who has to get up in the middle of the night to calm Maggie down. (Out of respect for Jessie's age. I have tried but am not physically able.)
~ OMK
Lost my post. Perhaps later
Loved hearing about your various dogs, Ol' Man Keith. I guess they are just as varied as people--good, bad, and indifferent. How cool that Lady brought you your newspaper every morning. But sorry to hear Maggie is such a pain. Wish your wife's mother had been willing to take her home so that you and your wife can get a bit of a better sleep.
I miss my Dusty (taken out by a coyote two years ago, I think.) But a quiet house is not a bad thing at my age.
Post a Comment