I have been up since before 5 o’clock.
The following is the reason why…
When a rhyme hits in the middle of the night
I have no choice, so I give up the fight
And drag myself out of bed to write…!
I started looking through the many poems I have written through the years in order to compile a couple of new poetry collections.
“Body Language” will be a continuation of “Body Parts” and of “Going to the Dogs” and “Other Critters.” It It will begin with poems about our puggle Ginger.
Proceeds from the books will go to the scholarship endowment at CSULA and the Culver City Dog Park, The Boneyard.
Ginger, our puggle rescue puppy, has an “alter ego” we call Fred who gets into all the mischief. Lately, Charley’s been calling her “Chewfingers” after the Chewbacca in the Star Wars films. She looks a little like a Wookie and sounds a bit like Chewbacca with a cross between a coo and a bark.
Chewsy Puppy
I have a little dog named Fred
I wonder what‘s inside his head
He likes to chew and chew and chew
My sock, my scarf and then my shoe
He’s chewed the sofa and a pillow
The handle on the old wheelbarrow
My carved iguana’s nose is mussed
Now my hearing aid’s bit the dust
He chewed the wire; just bit it through
Completely wrecked, though it was new
The audiologist who fixed it for me
Told some tales that didn’t bore me
About repairs that he had made
Of many different hearing aids
That dogs had chewed to little bits
Or swallowed and retrieved in s—t..!
Fred’s chewing never ever ceases
At least he doesn’t eat the pieces
But leaves them there for me to find
Upon the floor, not his behind..!
Dr. Hoult may be contacted at HOULTight@aol.com
