Friday, April 9, 2010

Blu? Bleu? Blue?

This week a colleague sent us a picture of her new Great Dane puppy named Bleu.  So, one of the poems I jotted in my writer's notebook this week is about our Australian Shephard, Blu.  She was a great dog ( my wife and I inherited her from my brother and sister-in-law when they moved to Alaska).  Piercing blue eyes.  Long blue merle coat.  An affinity for chasing ducks.  A quiet presence.  A gentile and graceful friend.  A happy wag and a love for snow.  She and Nicholas, our black spaniel mix, were always the best of pals.
     We eventually had her put to sleep.  It was a sad day.  She was old, blind, and weak.  Her coat had lost most of its luster.  We tried to replace her with Annie, another Aussie, but she wasn't the same (although she, too, was a good dog).  There was only one Blu (and Nicholas too).
     Haven't had a dog since (although a Newfoundland tops the list)... but we have memories.  Blu falling off a two-story balcony and surviving, wandering blindly down below (no injuries).  Blu running across fallen trees over mountain river streams.  Blu breathing with the WORST dog breath ever.  Blu eating her way through any fence that tried to contain her.  She was a long-haired Aussie, beautiful.  A great dog.  So, thanks to my colleague for sharing Bleu and thanks to Mary Lee for nudging me to write a poem each day.  This is the first one I'm sharing:


I saw your puppy, Bleu today.
My heart was reminded of our Blu.
I often dream of her dancing in the snow,
throwing white winter wisps high into the air,
watching snowflakes land on her blue merle coat,
melting softly into silky fur.
Seeing her smile.

I often dream of her waiting,
sitting beside me patiently, longing for a pet,
wagging her tail with hope,
asking with piercing blue eyes for a treat,
knowing she is loved.
Seeing her smile.

I often dream of her sleeping soundly,
laying on my tired feet, snoring,
her heartbeat gently warming cold toes,
knowing she'll soon want a walk,
one eye opens, hoping it comes soon.
Seeing her smile.

I often dream of her barking softly,
sharing her quiet voice, demure,
a happy bark rumbling from deep inside,
never obnoxious, always sincere,
a bark of happiness and joy.
Seeing her smile.

I saw your puppy, Bleu today.
And was reminded.
I miss our Blu...

1 comment:

  1. Thanks for sharing your poem and your memories of a great dog!