***If you missed installment #4, click here.
To start from the beginning, click here.
FIFTH AGE: “,,. the justice, in fair round belly with good capon lined, with eyes severe and beard of formal cut, full of wise saws and instances…”
Would age and experience make this dog any better?
Reconsider his motives? Follow rules to the letter?
Would he stifle his ego (which proved shameless and frilly)?
Let’s just put it this way: Nick was Nick, so, not really…
The kitchen is the place where dog’s love to loiter,
Most driven by instinct, they must reconnoiter
Every square inch of tiling, if it’s there, they will find it
The tiniest morsel, when it’s food, they don’t mind it!
As I’ve mentioned, had a keen sense of smell,
Which could lead him to treasures, or, sometimes to hell…
I remember the day that I cooked Texas chili,
(I prefer things so hot that it supercedes silly),
Well, accidents happen and I dropped a Scotch Bonnet,
But before I could bend down, Niki was on it…
For your information, these peppers I use
Are considered the hottest in most experts’ views,
Poor Niki, unaware of the consequence dire,
Took a bite… and that pepper, at once, turned to fire!
I had just filled his dish with fresh water,
Nick resembled a pig, condemned to the slaughter,
His little pink tongue, like a rattlesnakes’ warning
Kept lapping and lapping for most of the morning…
One would think…
that his near-death experience might quell
The precarious enticement to eat things that fell,
But no! When his fiery mouth stopped from throbbing,
Nick returned to the kitchen and resumed his hobnobbing
With me, whom he knew, other things I’d be chopping,
And if I stayed the true course, then more foods I’d be dropping…
“Nick, mind your manners and show some decorum!
Who d’ya think you are, Caesar? Well, this isn’t your forum!
Get out of my kitchen! Stop acting so crude!
This here is yours truly; over there is your food!”
Much like a pauper, Nick would head for his bowl,
With an aura suggesting his food had no soul,
And it worked, I gave in, how could anyone quibble?
I threw in a bit of spiced meat with his kibble…
In seconds, he’d downed it, this tasty new dish,
(It started me thinking: ‘he must have a death wish‘),
The meat worked its magic; I could feel Niki’s pain,
As his stomach erupted, I let him out in the rain,
“That’ll teach you!” I called out, “that greed is a vice!
Before diving in, one should always think twice.”
But dogs will be dogs; he’d remain unconcerned
And would pick up, where he left off, if and when, he returned…
It was not long thereafter that Nick became manic
After Laura introduced him to foods pure Organic,
Laura, certified in holistic nutrition,
Was convinced that Organics would improve our condition,
Including the dog who jumped right on the wagon;
(‘No more scrounging for food from that that fire-eating dragon!’)
He’d grown wise to any and all who might sell it..
And had learned, before gobbling, to take time and smell it!
But his tastes, thanks to Laura, became pure and sublime
He figured, ‘Why go for regular when they’re offerin’ up prime?
Pure meat and kibble such as Chicken with Rice
And vegies fresh picked from the fields – oh so nice!’
Within weeks, Nick seemed different, Laura claimed he looked svelte,
And I could tell by his mien how much better he felt,
By hook or by crook, Nick was all for expedience
A spokesman against artificial ingredients..
But like most things, eating healthy, became an obsession,
And raised expectations even through the Recession,
Like Big Ben which tolls daily breakfasts and dinners
If his food was not served up on time, we were sinners!
And he’d treat us as such, with a mean snarl or growl
Knowing sooner than later we would throw in the towel…
Poseidon would say Nick had turned back the tide,
He’d regained the momentum, and I just couldn’t hide
The truth, Nick maneuvered from minus to plus,
He usurped the name master; he began training us!
Oh, the things we learn too late in life are deplorable,
From those who we once found so cute and adorable,
Nick’s icy deportment was not without flaw
Like Louis the Sixteenth, he acted very bourgeois…
There’s a warning to those who grow fussy or haughty,
Who sit on the edge of being “Good boy!” or “Naughty!”
Like Scotch Bonnet peppers, in life there are worse things,
And it’s people – not doggies – who control all the purse strings…
So it didn’t take long knocking Nick off his throne,
We put him in ‘prison’ and wouldn’t toss him a bone…
It took time and patience but it worked in the end,
Nick accepted his station, in our home he’d ascend
To a far better mindset, where all can agree,
When enough is enough, let it be, let it be…
For dogs, just like kings who insist on refinement,
Might one day be victims, of a poor man’s confinement.
***Please note: installments 6 and 7 (the final ones) coming Feb. 8