I should not have given Tinker, our oldest schnauzer, those tortilla chips yesterday. I took her out early this morning and saw no indication of a problem. She and younger sister Tally were enjoying the 3″ of snow that fell last night. Tinker does not like grass, most likely because of her allergies, so the blanket of snow provided a protective shield for her sensitive paws. Tally was busy digging in the snow and running circles around her, while she was trying to do her business.

An hour after Tinker was back inside our house, she began to bug my wife, fidgeting, shivering, and pacing down the hall. With the cold temperatures outside, my wife put on her Thunder Shirt that tightly hugs her body and provides comfort. We typically put this on in thunderstorms that were frequent when we lived in Austin, Texas, but rarely happen in Portland. As my wife opened the shutters on the sliding doors to the back deck, Tinker immediately went to look out the glass, so she opened the door and let her out. It was another bad case of “Tinkerrhea” (See Posts #370 and #371). My wife was not aware that I fed her chips yesterday, so she was disappointed in my actions, but relieved that it wasn’t something else. I went out later to clean up the mess and thought of this silly poem in honor of the occasion:

Deck Check

Before you step,
You need to check.
In venturing out,
On our back deck.

There’s no fenced yard,
Where we live.
So when pups gotta go,
Something has to give.

When weather’s bad,
Or emergency calls.
And dogs starts pacing,
Around our halls.

The only solution,
To get outside.
The sliding door,
Gets opened wide.

There’s no grass,
Just planks of wood.
But in a pinch,
It works real good.

There’s potted plants,
A table and chairs.
One way in or out,
No exit stairs.

A massive grill,
That smells of meat.
So sniffing that,
Is quite a treat.

So open up,
It’s time to go.
Bombs away,
Look out below.

Between the cracks,
A target looms.
With some help,
Let’s hope it blooms.

So watch out,
When you come over.
Dodge the spots,
Left from rover.

Before you step,
You need to check.
In venturing out,
On our poop deck.

Copyright 2018 johnstonwrites.com

I’ve spent the past few days organizing some poems and posts into a notebook for eventual publication. This will be my second attempt in life to write a book. I also hope to add some illustrations to accompany some of the humorous poems and stories that I have written these past few years. The title will be “I Said, Sit.” and it will be about our dog Tinker. I wrote this poem today to set the stage:

I Said, “Sit.”

She’s not a horse,
Just a little dog.
She eats like a pig,
And “goes” like a hog.
.
She finished her food,
And half of yours, too.
And now you know,
What she needs to do.
.
You take her outside,
She looks for a spot.
This may be it?
Or no, maybe not?
.
She circles and sniffs,
Scratches then stops.
Hoping it’s where,
The poop finally drops.
.
But something’s awry,
And she moves on.
Because up ahead,
Is a much greener lawn.
.
This might be it,
More time goes by.
It’s not even raining,
The ground is dry.
.
Now ready to squat,
The moment is near.
Move out of the way,
Time to stand clear.
.
Will the deposit she makes,
Form a big pile?
Or will we continue,
Waiting a while?

.

She finally goes here,
And AGAIN over there.
That’s just not possible,
We soon declare.
.
How can so much,
Come out of one dog?
That’s not a poop,
That’s the whole log.
.
What goes in,
Must come out.
In her case you can’t,
Turn off the spout.
.
Number two with her,
Always comes first.
Then the other pipe,
Is ready to burst.
.
I see a leak.
You got a pail?
Two holes hide,
Under that tail.
.
We call her “Tinker,”
The bottomless pit.
Maybe she misunderstood,
When I said, “sit.”
.
She’s “The Pooping-est,
Dog on the Planet.”
The title may stink,
But Tink’s full of it.

.

Copyright 2017 johnstonwrites.com

I Said, “Sit.”

I hope you’re not offended with toilet humor when it comes to dogs, because it’s one of Tinker’s endearing habits, as a result of her voracious appetite. I originally wanted to title the book, Tinker’s Tail, because of what frequently comes out from underneath her plume-like appendage. It reminds me of a Swifter Duster, ready to go to work on the furniture. Fortunately, unlike many dogs of the Schnauzer breed, her tail was not clipped and turns out to be one of her most distinctive features, along with her bearded snout. Schnauzer is the German word for “snout” and translates colloquially to “mustache” from what I have read. The name Tinker came from Walt Disney, since her furry older sister at the time of her adoption into our family was named Belle. At the time of this writing, Tinker is approaching 100 dog years, and this will commemorate her life as the “Pooping-est Pup on the Planet.” I also want to recognize our other Schnauzer pup, Tally, who when teamed up with Tinker, makes an explosive combination of T-N-T. These two have been together as part of our family for 7 years. I hope you enjoy this collection of humorous poems and stories about the dogs that have made our lives special.

Tinker has been all the talk today, as “Her Girl” has come to visit. It’s remarkable that after so much time apart how quickly they reconnect. Tinker’s memory is a tribute to her intelligence – she never forgets! Right now, however, she is back at my feet, temporarily loyal to the hand that just fed her and took her outside. She and Tally are in waiting mode for mom to get home from the office, and the chance to reunite at the garage entrance to the condo.  Who knows how long they think she’s been gone? By the way they react every night, you would think it was years! I will soon be forgotten as the whole family comes together as one – dogs, cat, parents, and daughters.

When I was growing up, my mom could tell when I needed to use the bathroom. I couldn’t keep my body still, moving about in a near spastic manner, legs shaking, and arms quaking that made everyone uncomfortable, yet I couldn’t find the time or make the effort to visit the bathroom without being asked. She called it the “Tinkle Dance.” Tinker does a little dance, almost as annoying as mine used to probably be, as she tries desperately to find the right spot. It is particularly frustrating in the rain as she slowly moves back-and-forth, forth-and-back, as I watch with little patience, waiting for “lift off.” As a girl she rarely raises her leg, and gives little indication of her need to pee, so I simply have to wait for what sometimes feels like decades. If I’m in a hurry to be someplace, it is particularly painful to watch as she circles, hops, tip-toes on the uncomfortable grass, and ultimately lets go. It’s less dramatic with a poop that is always followed with the bull-like kicking of the turf with her back feet, a habit she may have picked up from her first sister Belle. Nonetheless, there’s a “Tinker Dance” that accompanies each performance. It’s a gesture of accomplishment yearning for acknowledgment. I hope I didn’t anticipate the same praise after my mom urged me to seek the toilet.

Today’s posts have been filled with toilet humor, that seems almost endearing when it comes to pets. Five times a day I urge them to go, so I can get back inside and continue writing. It’s a pet owners ritual when you don’t have a convenient back yard. Unfortunately, it’s also like trying to watch the kettle boil. It never does! We all wish we could train our dogs to use the toilet and not to leave the seat up. A solution has been found for cats with the invention of the litter box. Are dogs just not smart enough to use one? The poodle in Tinker makes her smart, but she prefers just to eat the cat turds like a trip to the buffet. “Bone Wars” often extend to “Turd Wars,” as Tinker and Tally wait patiently for much anticipated cat action to satisfy their endless hunger. We have installed a Door Buddy strap to prevent the recycling of these feline leave-behinds. Ironically, the kitty uses the same rear kick of the bull, like Tinker, to attempt to bury these apparently tasty treasures. Similarly, Tinker turds occasionally still show up on the kitchen floor, but only in emergency situations. She tries to blame it on Tally, but we know better since she somehow consumes twice as much food and therefore has to poop twice as much.  At least it’s never on the carpeting anymore, since we’ve now gone primarily to hardwood and tile floors.

Here’s one last poetic thought on Tinker:

Tinker’s Tail (Tale)

.

Eye goobers,
Itchy skin.
Crusty hair,
Under her chin.

.

Dark age spots,
Droopy Eyes.
Lack of energy,
But she still tries.

.

Joints that ache,
A few steps slow.
But don’t ask twice,
She wants to GO!

.

Good dogs like her,
Are hard to find.
Years of training,
Her amazing mind.

.

An appetite,
That’s never full.
Just offer her,
An extra bowl.

.

Bat-like ears,
Schnauzer beard.
A distinctive bark,
That can be feared.

.

Curly gray hair,
Coal black nose.
Our love for her,
Forever grows.

.

Fuzzy eyebrows,
Cheshire grin.
Adopting her,
We’d do again.

.

But growing old,
Can be cruel.
Her best hope’s,
A good gene pool.

.

A woo-like whimper,
When she’s glad.
Tail up – she’s happy,
Down means sad.

.

We hope to get.
A few more years.
When she’s gone,
There will be tears.

.

Like a Timex watch.
Tinker’s still ticking.
And her pink tongue,
Keeps busy licking.

.

Copyright 2017 johnstonwrites.com