Mr. Peabody (and his boy, Sherman) wouldn't mind that I rewrote this famous quote, "Every dog should have a boy!"
So why am I thinking about this now? Well, tucked away in a small metal box are scraps and scribbles from my life. Some more than 50 years old. It's no exaggeration to confess I saved every thought, every possible poem or insight -- well, nearly every one. Today, I scavenged through the weathered pages, faded pen and pencil, and set aside some things I want to share. Maybe more will come.
When I was nine years old, my father brought home a six-week old standard poodle puppy. A chocolate brown bundle of love. My mother asked, "Is this a small dog?" To which my father replied, "Just look how small he is!" One only had to check the dog's "shoe size" to realize he wouldn't be small for long. From the very beginning, he was my dog. Sleeping in the corner of my room as a puppy and, eventually, sharing twin beds. For 16 years he was a devoted companion. His name was Seymour.
The prose - Seymour, July 1981:
Where's that little girl
And the puppy she loved so well?
She worried if he stayed out too late.
He would lie by the front door until she was safely home.
So faithfully he slept at the foot of her bed.
Sleeping for her was easier.
Nights felt more secure.