TRICKY NIKI POOPIE BUTT #1

To start from the beginning, click here.

Please note: The poetic story of Tricky Niki Poopie Butt is based on Shakespeare’s famous “All The World’s A Stage” monologue which is delivered by Jacques (a rather melancholy fellow) in ‘As You Like It’ Act 1V Scene V11. Shakespeare may have used his poetic license in paraphrasing the Latin “Totus mundus agit historionem” (All the world plays the actor). No matter, the following (as outlined in my Introduction) is meant to detail the story of a beloved pet dog Niki, with whom (not which) our family was blessed to have shared almost fifteen memorable years. Niki was quite the character as you soon will learn.

I hope you and your family find enjoyment…

THE PROLOGUE…

Shakespeare once wrote that a life’s lived in stages,

And he narrowed it down to well-defined ages,

Seven in all, where he tries to convey

We are all merely actors, and life, is a play…

Much like an adventure, we can bus it or hike it

Or as Shakespeare might say in his day: As You Like It;

Yes, it’s all up for grabs as we move through each station,

Bending, not breaking,  the laws of Creation?

Times forges onward; it can’t be reversed,

We live out our lives on a stage unrehearsed

And enter, or exit, through each act unscripted,

Every scene like a mystery – every moment encrypted;

In the end, what’s important, as that last curtain closes,

We get our name on the marquee and a dozen red roses,

For every life, like a star, in some far-off constellation

Is a beacon, has a purpose, makes a stellar proclamation.

And so…

The word play that follows tells the life of a friend,

Who stayed by my side from beginning to end

And played out each scene, like a Shakespearean trouper,

Never missing his cue, he was quite simply super;

He came to me when I was down in the dumps,

My road had been winding and so full of bumps,

What saved me? You’ll learn as you read through these pages

Was meeting a friend , who’d be my rock for all ages…

So…

“Quiet on the set, let’s have lights…camera…ACTION!

Let’s cut to the chase with no further distraction!

Ladies and gents, keep your eyes open shut,

Here’s the star of our show: Tricky Niki Poopie Butt!

FIRST AGE: …”the infant, mewling and puking in the nurses’s arms…”

Some say that a dog is man’s best friend, it’s true,

And I think you’ll agree when I tell this to you,

It’s a tale ’bout my bud who was king of all mutts,

The very best dog, no ifs, ands or buts…

He came as a present that my wife went to choose

From a litter of puppies, pure-gold Cockapoos,

It was Christmas, my spouse Judy, who was known to be picky

Got the best of the bunch. What’d we call him? Well, Niki!

The first time I met him as I walked through the door,

I couldn’t see clearly what was there on the floor,

My wife and two daughters then whispered, “Surprise!”

It was then that I heard a pup’s whimpering cries…

“Oh my gosh” I exclaimed, “It’s a dog! Am I right?”

“He’s yours!” said my wife, and she turned on the light

And there, on a blanket, in the basket he sat in,

Was my bundle of joy, “Go ahead,” Jude said, “pat him.”

Now…

The first thing that most puppies do when they greet

Is sniff you, then lick you, then fall at your feet,

Well, Nick was no different and that moment was yummy,

So I rubbed both his ears and I tickled his tummy…

“He’s gorgeous,” I said, “What do you think little dude…

“You hungry? You must be in need of some food!”

He was barely two months, I knew dogs of his ilk

Would settle in quickly if I gave him some milk…

So off to the sofa still wrapped in his blanket

I cuddled my pup and the milk? Yes, he drank it,

So content with his feeding, his breathing got deep,

And I lifted the blanket to find him asleep…

He slept, on my lap, for an hour or so,

After which it occurred that he might have to ‘go’,

So I carried him outside, he was groggy and sleepy;

But he stood there, befuddled: no poo-poo, no pee-pee…

With patience I urged him, :C’mon bud, it’s freezin’!

We’re here in the backyard for only one reason,”

But Nick, in a daze, he just stood there a-shakin’,

So I took him inside for a treat. That might wake him!

“Wait here, little buddy, I’ve got something for you;

I’ll give you this treat if…You know? What to do…”

And that’s just what he did, as he stood by that door,

He not only peed but he pooed on the floor…

Well..

I knew from that moment as I cleaned up the mess

That dogs, just like children, are a prime source of stress,

Ogden Nash (a famed poet) rightly claimed it’s a chore,

For “Dogs are perpetually on the wrong side of the door.”

This quote brings to light something trainers all need,

Every dog is a product of its own special breed,

Thus, knowing the bloodlines, a dog’s DNA code

Is vital in devising a desired training mode…

So it wouldn’t be right – how unwitting of me,

If I failed to encapsulate Nick’s family tree;

Renowned among nations, both England and France,

Two ill-sorted partners in this marital dance,

Yet, the forging together of these blue-blooded tribes,

Conceived a new breed with unparalleled vibes,

They created an offspring unique on this planet,

A cheery young chap with a mindset of granite…

Nick’s mom was a Poodle with a sassy French flair,

While his dad was a Spaniel, with a Sherlock Holmes’ stare;

La creme de la creme meets with skidddish predilection,

An undeterred gumshoe who sought only affection…

Imagine a lamb with a short, golden fleece,

And a whimsical mindset, chock full of caprice,

One minute slumbering in a field grassy-green,

Then running amuck, supercharged on caffeine….

I could never be sure which Nick might show up,

The hyped-up young hound or the angelic pup,

No matter, the point is, he was one-of-a-kind,

Like a raw, uncut diamond, which is so hard to find…

Please note…

While Spaniels have long tails and some Poodles too,

It wasn’t the case with this breed, Cockapoo;

As puppies, the breeders must choose without fail

To crop off – no, chop off – this poor creature’s tail,

It’s tradition I guess, a true haute couture touch,

But I doubt that the dogs like the fashion that much;

It’s a bit disconcerting for these French/English mutts,

To go walking in public with bare-bottomed butts,

And it’s funny, I guess, when these dogs show their pleasure

How the tiny stumps wiggle in musical measure,

And their brown eyes light up as their wee bodies shiver

Like snakes, which are crossing the Amazon River…

Like I said, it’s a matter of innate hypertension,

Some think it’s the French way of getting attention,

And it’s odd too how their sniffers stay glued to the ground,

Like Sherlock scrutinzing every scent, every sound…

Of course, Nick made a big deal of things I found trite,

Like the ring of a doorbell, be it morning or night,

He got himself wound up, in a sheer state of panic,

Like he was announcing the fate of Titanic…

Barking to this breed’s a natural condition,

Any alien sound’s sure to spark their ignition,

En garde is their motto, they will stand brave and fight,

But most think their bark is much worse than their bite…

Surprisingly…

Nick’s size belied what his stomach could hold,

He could out eat a lion if the truth must be told,

Because food -glorious food – to him was a hit,

A friend of mine called him ‘The Bottomless Pit’…

He was worse than a seagull in search of a morsel,

Or a shark in the hunt showing only his dorsal,

With eyes like that telescope in space known as Hubble,

His craving of food would get Nick in BIG trouble…

Even before my two girls started walking,

Niki, the ‘pit’, had for months planned his stalking

And knew where the ‘goods’ were – they’d be his for the taking,

Not knowing the house rules or laws he’d be breaking…

But the daring crave danger and with fears put on hold,

Niki the ‘minor’ went out panning for gold

And found it! His claim staked – there was no need to think,

It was there, in a big can, right under the sink…

Potatoes and pork chops and succotash stew,

Salads and cake crumbs and apple cores too,

Head first Niki dove, in a ravenous fit,

The first of but many a theft he’d commit…

It was I who was summoned to the scene of the crime,

Watching old t.v. reruns, I’d been biding my time

Thinking Judy was cooking, or at least making tea,

So the noise in the kitchen, in no way bothered me…

Well, those sounds became louder so the t.v. I muted

And discovered that Niki our kitchen had looted,

A thief in our midst sent my mind in a rage,

“Get out of the garbage and into your cage!”

So…

For the next several hours, Niki watched in a pout,

As his master (that’s me) would leave no room for doubt,

The time had arrived – out came child-proof locks,

Not for the girls, but my golden-haired ‘fox’!

Yet…

Nick still ‘dug’ the kitchen; it was his Home Sweet Home,

He thought himself sous-chef, Monsieur Gastronome;

A gourmand so gallant that he gladly do dishes,

But licking the plates countered everyone’s wishes,

And in light of Nick’s passion for all types of food,

There was one tiny problem we considered quite rude,

Our dog had a habit and we just couldn’t foil it,

He figured the family room floor was his toilet.

With that said…

Draw the curtain, Act One’s reached its end,

And it’s time to take Niki outdoors where he’ll spend

Time learning lessons, by which good dogs abide.

Number One: It’s important! Do your ‘business’ outside!


Advertisements

One thought on “TRICKY NIKI POOPIE BUTT #1

  1. Pingback: TRICKY NIKI POOPIE BUTT… #2 | bloggingfrog

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s