PRAISE OF A DOG
she greeted you with a bow, never a bow-wow.
Her sons stood monumentally over her
but did what she told them. Each grew grizzledtill it seemed he was his own mother's grandfather.
Once, gathering sheep on a showery day,
I remarked how dry she was. Pollochan said, ‘Ah,it would take a very accurate drop to hit Lassie.’
She sailed in the dingy like a proper sea dog.
Where’s a burn? – She's first on the other side.She flowed through fences like a piece of black wind
But suddenly she was old and sick and crippled....
I grieved for Pollochan when he took her a strolland put his gun to the back of her head.
Norman MacCaig
January 1974
14 comments:
Really evocative.
So sorry about the puir dug.
Feels like me.
the title of yer blog caught my eye on Indigo's blog. Thought I'd pay you a visit and now I'm your newest follower.
TSB - it's a sad one right enough. {and you and me both!}
DSL - [I may not call you that again - after all you're not a delivery service} Thanks for signing up. The more the merrier. Feel free to stick your oar in anytime good or bad There's always room near the fire......
Nice little tribute. Sad ending though.
Kat
One of MacCaigs traits. He had a way with the malancholy side of things didn't he?
Glad you liked it Kat.
Aw, so sweet and very melancholy. Hope you are well Alistair. Trying to catch up after a busy few weeks…..
Hi Nicky - doing fine at this end. Hope you are too. Busy is good - frantic isn't.....
With all these posts, you've made me love another poet. Thanks.
Can't be bad then!
Can't quite reach round behind to pat my own back so just take it as read that that's what I've done.......
Cheers!
Hey Alistair! I was quite shocked at the end there. But I hope someone will do the same for me when my time comes. Indigo
I could really 'see' the little doggy, and was sad she had to go to the field beyond.
Thanks both - it's a sad wee tale well told isn't it?
Bit of a surprise ending.:(
It got me too.....
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