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Peckish Peep and Reservoir Seep

What are YOU looking at!? A screen of some kind? Excellent. Let us proceed then.

There is no doubt that were I to start again training my sweet girl I would switch up a few things. Never having raised a dog before I certainly committed my share of mistakes which I will attempt to regulate for following generations. I don’t think I will ever live, by choice anyway, absent canine(s).

One of my more amusing miscues is in relation to my own feeding time. I was so thrilled when she would no longer go for the food on my plate anymore I cared little for her physical position otherwise. Fast forward to present day and we’ve reached a steady state whereby she positions her head upon my lap (who eats at a table?). She doesn’t whine but there is one tiny issue that often comes to pass. Interestingly the problem is positively correlated to the relative magnitude of the meal’s odor. Perhaps I will chart the outcomes and graph the function.


Peckish Peepers, June 14, 2018

“Hungry Eyes” should be about having pets

Their insidious cuteness only gets

Greater as plate’s meager contents dwindle

My sympathy is swiftly rekindled

Some say eyes are the windows of the soul

Hers gleam visions of a bottomless bowl

As her drool gathers, big spots on my lap

Flows like a river from down out her trap

Leaves me with grossly suspicious pant stains

I will no doubt later have to explain

In the end her wretched but loving gaze

Destroys my lasting objections most days.


My usual policy is that if she’s good and I’m eating something not too horrible she can have a small piece when I’m done. How hilarious is it that I’ll eat absolute BS but be like sorry dog this isn’t good for you, far too unhealthy. It’s like how I always try to cross at the lights when walking her but wouldn’t give it a second thought otherwise.

Who hasn’t featured the occasional suspicious pant stain? Powdered doughnuts, hungry animals, abberant carbonara sauces… Truly, these… are the days of our lives.

Be swell and remember to paint with all the colors of the wind!

-Alex Blaikie

Categories: poetry writing

Tagged as:

dreadpoetssobriety

A broken mind held together by cellophane and some tack.

12 replies

  1. Lol! “Insidious Cuteness”, I love it! I swear they can physically transform into an even cuter version of themselves when there’s food around- and they know exactly how to turn it off and on, lol! My cat used to turn her beautiful little green eyes into giant orbs of hypnotic adorableness whenever I pulled tuna out.

    Liked by 2 people

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