Santa Pup

Retail Pet

Dogs sleep on the bed

chickens hatch in kitchen

plan in my head

listen pup

shoe you chewed up?

new retail spanking

 sizes back in racks

purses are absurd

Chloe YSL  Vuitton

sit in Saks

puppies for loves

Ducati or Blackbird

don't wear gloves

fly like lightening

wear Santa hat

run in

no sin

give away

silly morning poem for the pup who eats shoes
Copyright December 6 2016 Caroline Gerardo

Golden Retriever Smile Recipe

 Smile recipe:

1 dog

1 ball

1 lake

watch her swim

 water shakes off

wild laughter.

Caroline Gerardo October 2016 copyrights reserved

Honey is Gone

Moved, down sized, changed compass.

Wild.

National Forest, mountains, ranches are home.

Goodbye nightly aroma of beach fires- 

pallets burning... 

Flecks touch the surf.

Visit ocean.

It's ours.

Last night a friend left.

Loss of a family member, though

you saw her as a pet.

Goodbye tides.

Farewell cosmos.

Fifteen years of love.

Nanny to my children.

Checked safety, fixed covers,

never hated or distrusted;

but she stole underpants.

We laughed with her.

Snort at Honey jokes.

Her spirit soars.  

Swim the sea.

She's not gone.

Miss dust bunny fluffer-

nutter hair in corners.

Sounds of her toenails on

the kitchen floor, no more. 

Vacuum nose sniffing

specs of dinner gone astray,

now silent.

Golden Retrievers are from Heaven

Honey is up there, running.

When you see Honey she is kind.

A dog with truest form of love.

I wish 

I gave more treats,

paw rubs, kisses and

told her more often: 

"You are the best. 

You are beautiful.

You are my sweet."

more and more...

Sun sets,

slips behind landscape.

A gold color of Honey. 

Her tail flows in the clouds.

You are ocean.

Not a dog.

You are sea.

Swim in the kelp like when

you were young. 

Ride waves with surfers and Carson.

Dive for balls.

We love you too.

See you in Heaven mermaid pup.

Caroline Gerardo copyright May 26, 2016

Honey's Days Under a Canopy of Sunflowers

I finally heard back from the Vet about Honey our Golden Retriever. She will be fifteen tomorrow, she has been healthy, loving, fast, funny and wonderful until this past July. Her ear infections won’t cure, the pads of her feet seem to bother her so much that she stopped taking her swim in the pool and won’t go in the ocean excepting for the very soft foamy waves. This is a dog that swam with the surfers and rode waves with us until we called her to stop. The last two days she doesn’t want to eat or move around.

Carson had a Lacrosse camp at Whittier College all day in the heat, and I couldn’t take her into 102 degree temperature so I had a couple different people check on her at home. She sun bathed in the morning and enjoyed her routine of watching the hummingbirds and dragonflies hover over the pool but come afternoon she didn’t go into her favorite spot among the Colossal sunflowers. Honey didn’t move all day from the kitchen floor where my laptop is and where she keeps me company to write.

I felt this boulder in my chest calling to check on her, I redialed the Vet’s exchange in hopes he would call in some prescription. Last visit he spoke of quality of life. I’m bringing her in tomorrow, going to ask for pain medicine, something to perk her appetite and a miracle. Are you connected with your pets? I am closer with my children, but our dogs offer unconditional love and joy. If you ever knew or have a Golden Retriever, you know what a funny breed they are. They talk and make noises but are terrible watch dogs. They are afraid of lightening and all they want is to be a nanny to your children and make certain everyone is comforted.

Honey knew when I was sick with chemotherapy, she saw us survive the fire, and she is still diligent in watching for bunnies who steal my flowers and produce. She no longer chases them but they are afraid of the big amber colored dog who once guarded her garden.

I’m home now after a fun day at Carson’s Lacrosse Camp, gave her a piece of cheese with her pills. Then an extra pieces of Trader Joe’s sliced turkey because I know it is yummy. She shook her head and smiled that big dog one but her eyes are cloudy.

My son Carson said tonight, “Mom, you say that when you are ready to die, you will swim out in the ocean to some far away buoy to avoid being a burden--”

I stop him mid-sentence, “No, as much as Honey loves the ocean, Green River or the lake she would panic and be afraid. I don’t ever want any of you to be afraid.”

He nods, I feel a tear in my eye, and blot it off with my shirt. He’s sixteen and life and death are fast as the wings of a dragonfly. I put my hand on Honey’s head so she won’t have to get up to be with us for a group hug. Then we get down on the floor and thank her for being a beautiful girl. Her tail still has some thump in it.

Sunflowers the size of a basketball player

I think this is what Honey sees when she sleeps under the sunflowers, a big happy face full of seeds of promise for next year.