A Dog’s Poem

Here is a poem you don’t have to be educated to enjoy! This poem was printed in Clark Fork’s own River Journal in October 2009.

By Scott Clawson
Used with permission.

You lock me up and go away
and don’t come home ’til the end of the day.
Leavin’ me here to sit and stare,
their ain’t no way you can call this fair!
I ain’t no ‘watch dog,’ I’m a do-dog, see;
this pen don’t cut it, I’ve gotta be free.
I’ve got all day to work myself through it
in hopes that someday you’ll say, “Aw, screw it!”

Just leave me to roam around and do my stuff,
to scratch and sniff ’til I get enough
of protectin’ our place the best that I can
from intruders and such, ain’t that the plan?
I promise to stay home and not get lost.
Just think of this pen and all that it cost.
And when I break out for one reason or two,
it’s because of my nature, you know it be true.

You don’t have to worry ’bout me chasing skunks
or porcupines, Mormons or kids in trunks.
I’ll sit here quietly a mindin’ the store
just like those other dogs you had before.
if I smell a cougar of hear a moose
I’ll crawl under the deck and just hang loose.
It’s my livelihood at stake, I fear incarceration
as it makes me crazy to the point of constipation.

I was born free to die free, if I keep my nose out of trouble,
just like people who don’t like to live in a bubble.
To keep me happy in a consistent way,
I need room to roam and roles to play.
I need yer attention and that goes double
or my mood will usually be found in the rubble.

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