As Bodie Sees It

I think Bodie, my brother's dog/family dog, is one of the most fascinating dogs around, and one who I believe displays many human-like characteristics, which I find lovely..so I decided to write a little something from a "Bodie perspective", seasoned with a big dash of human intellect.


I don't like my food, well, actually I do, but i become really excited when my masters have food in front of them. I suppose my food becomes boring, and I like to explore a different class of food altogether. Unfortunately, I think my brief intake of human food makes my insides turn, and I become quiet gaseous and displeasing to most; however I continue to carry on in these acts, and I have no intention of quitting.


I have a secret crush on tennis balls..I enjoy running after them and gnawing on them. I like the way my jaw sounds as it moves up and down...Deidre and "the parents" find this entertaining. I like to engage in a good game of fetch..in the house of course, cause who likes going outside in this weather? That can become rather interesting.

I have a pretty sweet bed upstairs...one of Austen's old camo sleeping bags, and one of Deidre's pillows. This way I can harbor both of their scents every evening, and keep them close to me, though miles separate us. Someday soon maybe I will get to see them both, maybe in the same visit-- that would be divine, and I would be in doggy heaven!

Humanity's Defiance

This is a piece I wrote some time back..back in the day of about oh, 2001/02... I have been going through some of my old journals and "making them come to life"-- hopefully those who read will gain something.. or not :)

The crickets persevere vociferously through the night,
Does anyone hear us or know our beauty?
We saturate the night with music...
Music to entertain, to distract, simply to be.
Our humble conversation is the talk of many,
Some people anyway, take notice of our song.
We are so faithfully present to so many homes across the world-
Our numbers ever-increasing without boast.
Dead ears breed disgust among the music-makers.
How can so many grow in repulsive ignorance?
Apathy spreads like wildflowers infecting the good soil..
Why do the buzz of cell phones, the senseless chatter of the mouth, carousels and candy canes--
conflict with the natural flow of human existence?
Why, oh why, can we not revel in being still, and hearing nature's song?

A faithful listener appreciates nature's song from a lit room..
It pleases the ear and enlightens her soul.
Frustration abounds with the passing of loud, "pimped out" vehicles,
"red-neck sensation beasts,"
Oh, the ignorant people..
Quiet dignity proceeds, the pleas of the crickets
And humanity's defiance.

Short escalator

So many times I have wished your eyes were before me, to communicate words, to feel passion, spoken words, of no concern.
Long gazes, the warmth of your skin upon mine...
The scent of you upon my shoulder from a quick embrace,
And how silly I feel to desire never to wash this shirt?
Oh, what you have done,
My insides ride on an escalator of elation and confusion...
Longing for you to be near, never to leave my vision, you, in my veins.

musical inspiration

Hearing the music, title unknown, inspired the following words:
The rhythm of the music infuses her veins as she moves in step with the beat of the drum, incandescent lights, the flow of the satin skirt behind her...she sails across the floor intoxicated by nothing else than the liberation of the music, the sensation of the rapid pumping of blood through veins, heart beating faster than drum beat---anatomy of human body, boggles my mind. To think everything works to create this divine collaborative movement, the expression of self, the celebration of rhythm, the freedom of release.

Search for love and sanity

Oh wayward train, movement continues for miles and miles, subsides now...bring me back to life, to reality---crazy train, no more--wake up my soul to new life, a new breath , the dawning of a sober existence
Wake up disillusioned America, and see the man beaten down by the shunning of the people, the blinders of the passer-by. The man who has weathered skin, the feet that turn inward, the hopelessness of his stance. Arise my soul, and see the need of this man, the hunger in his eyes, the need for love. Forever certain souls wait in hopeful abandonment to the emergence of a unified community, an understanding and humbled people.
Where has love gone? People are mere objects of mockery, a vain existence. We become victimized to the machine--production, production, money, money--ah, we have become blinded to the truth, but truth is relative to many in today's culture--absolute truth, the existence thereof? Another discussion perhaps.