Archer is not an angel
But he is my pride and joy
He’s not always obedient
But loves to play with a toy.
It doesn’t matter what it is
As long as it is thrown
As he just loves to catch it
On his very own.
He can chase it endlessly
Even when he’s puffed
But he won’t give up easily
Until he’s totally stuffed.
Archer is not an angel
But he is an angel to me
He represents all that’s good
Innocence and humility.
Milo and I took a stroll through the park.
Mum said “Remember! Be home before dark.”
We spotted a goanna hiding in the grass.
He was in our way so we couldn’t get past.
Milo can’t talk but he sure can bark.
He scared that goanna right out of the park.
We came upon a cassowary underneath a tree.
I didn’t like the way that he was looking at me.
Milo can’t talk but he sure can bark.
He scared that bird right out of the park.
We crept up on a snake that was resting in the shade.
It made a hissing noise and I felt quite afraid.
Milo can’t talk but he sure can bark.
He scared that snake right out of the park.
We noticed an echidna searching for some ants,
all around the tree roots and up and down the plants.
Milo can’t talk but he sure can bark.
He scared that echidna right out of the park.
Then I said to Milo it’s getting very dark.
It’s just about time that we were leaving this park.
But just as we’d decided we really shouldn’t stay,
who do you think was standing in our way?
With looks on their faces that made me start to shake,
goanna, echidna, cassowary, snake.
Standing at the front and peering through the grass
was old man goanna who wouldn’t let us pass.
And echidna and cassowary looking so mean
that my knees started knocking, what a frightening scene.
Waiting right beside them to give us such a scare
was snake with his forked tongue testing the air.
Milo can’t talk and he couldn’t even bark.
We were both so scared we ran right out of that park!
Jeremy James Johnson was a very naughty boy.
Fatty fried junk foods were all that he’d enjoy.
Now Jeremy had a little dog, his name was Mut.
He sat under the table, his mouth never shut.
Mut liked cauliflour, carrots and celery stewed,
He ate every scrap because he just liked food.
Mut even ate cabbage and broccoli as well
Although why he liked them no one could tell.
So Jeremy was able to show a plate scraped clean,
And demand two helpings of chocolate ice cream.
He got away with this for month after month,
Jeremy got skinny and Mut strong and plump.
Jeremy looked at Mut who shared his day,
And saw how fast he ran around to play.
“Mut’s not tired and runs faster than me.
Why does he still have so much energy?”
His father with glee got to Jeremy at last.
“Mut eats all your vegies that’s why he’s fast.”
Jeremy James Johnson is now very very good.
He eats all his vegies as every child should.
And fatty fried foods make him feel very sick
Because Jeremy is now on a fitness kick.
Jeremy can now run very very fast
So his little dog Mut often ends up last.
Full of importance
on Pageant Day
our canine friends
were out to play
Santa costumes
Christmas grins
white beards flowing
from hairy chins
Music and laughter
Christmas cheer
the town comes alive
this time of year
Thousands of locals
line the street
applauding our pooches
as they wag to the beat
The talk of the town
for the year to come
The dogs of Mt Gambier
are second to none
Wishing you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Don’t forget a special treat for your furry members on Christmas Day.
Photo from Pexels by Goochie Poochie Grooming
Close your eyes and picture a dog:
A Maltese terrier crossed with a poodle.
She’s a lovely dog is Izzy,
And she’s proud to be a moodle.
Moodles have oodles of energy,
And they’re always very busy.
They run in circles everywhere
And never ever get dizzy —
(CRASH)
— like Izzy!
Dedicated to Gwen and her Golden Retriever Louie.
The sun is setting
a coloured sky awaits,
“Lets get moving
We cant be late”
We walk and we talk
as we pick up the pace,
towards the sunset
at our sacred place.
To the end of the pier
we arrive at our spot,
out comes the phone
for our nightly shot.
On the way home
I look back and grin
“Thanks for the walk,
Lets do this again”.
A Tjuntjuntjara desert dog
Is howling at the moon.
Just one at first, then more join in
This ancient howling growling tune.
[Don’t ask me why.
It’s the just their way.
They’ve done it every single day
Since dogs began!]
And very soon, and very soon,
The entire yip-yap yelping mob,
Yes, the whole red-dirt platoon
Of Tjuntjuntjara desert dogs
Is howling at the moon.
Stewart Ennis is from Bridge of Weir, Scotland. Since the 1980s he’s worked in Scottish theatre as writer, deviser, performer and occasional photographer. He was creative writing tutor in Scottish prisons and editor of Causeway/Cabhsair magazine of new Irish & Scottish writing. His plays, poems, stories and photographs have appeared on a number of stages, pages and platforms. A debut novel Blessed Assurance was published in 2020. Recent work includes writing the children’s film animation Yoyo & The Little Auk for Royal Scottish National Orchestra. He’s currently at Curtin University for the second year of an Aberdeen-Curtin Alliance scholarship PhD in creative writing. He recently some time in wonderful Tjuntjuntjara documenting the Spinifex artists at work and play.
A custom cut from nose to butt
is what the “Mutt Hutt” does
Snipping, styling the latest trends
and shaving through the fuzz
In through the in door
disarrayed and dirty as can be
Out through the out door
transformed to a beauty queen
This poem was inspired by a news story I watched, then researched, about a boxer named Treasure, who became a mum to eight little piglets on a farm in Queensland.
Eight cute little piglets
grunting and squealing today
because a boxer named Treasure
came bounding their way
A stray herself
Treasure played her part
taking the eight little piglets
straight into her heart
She rounded them up
with cuddles and licking
her milk came in
with the suckling and kicking
On a farm with eight kids
and eight piglets in tow
Treasure the Boxer
put on a great show
She now has a family
Treasure loves them to bits
a boxer and eight piglets
the perfect farm fit
We turned a corner and there he was,
towering in the air,
a gorgeous dog with enormous eyes
and wheat dust in his hair.
He didn’t bark, he didn’t move,
he gazed out from the wall,
beside his master, for all time,
the biggest dog of all.
Teacher’s note: This silo art is at Nullawil, Victoria, so named because the local indigenous word “nulla” is a killing stick while “willock” means a galah. Both items appear on the medal attached to the dog’s collar.
