Ben’s new Munromobile #A Tanka

Thank you so much for coming to visit a dog poet. My poems for Colleen’s weekly poetry challenge are a take on life from a canine perspective. We poets – and to date I seem to be the only dog poet –  write one of the structured poems permitted and have to integrate, as synonyms, the two words given as a prompt.

This week the word are spring and sing; I am doing a Tanka.

You can find out about it all, and have a go yourself, by clicking below:

Colleen’s poetry challenge

 

Photo of Ben's van no available in this format.

Last week I had to relinquish my van, which had been our friend, transport and accommodation, as we climbed the first 50 mountains on our quest to conquer the 282 Munros in Scotland; they are the mountains over 3000 feet. While I had grown to love the character of my van it seems that’s it’s unreliability was a bit of a liability. I had very mixed feelings about this transformation and wrote about then in this blog:

Ben’s new Munromobile

You can read all about our v. v. v big challenge here. Ben’s adventure

However, look at what I’ve got now and, of course, I had to write a poem about it.

 

IMG_4234

Bought near Pentland hills –
My rising star, shinning bright –
Tanka-Kangoo beams.
Like the promise of sunset
Or a boyant, joyous song.

Love Ben, the dog poet xx

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

Have I got news for you!

Friends, collies, micro campers,

Last Monday my afternoon slumber was badly disturbed, or so I thought at the time. In Ben’s life, mornings are all about playing ball in the forest for a couple of hours and, after all that exertion, afternoons give way to lots and lots of zzzzzzzzzzs; life’s not all bad.

Being a creature of habit, I’m not at my best when such a well-oiled routine is interrupted and, therefore, I was in a foul mood when woken and directed to the garden (nature’s own public convenience), before getting into my seat in the car.

Arriving at B’s work to collect her early perked me up no end, but my body clock was seriously confused; what was going on? We started back towards home, but then went sailing (well, OK driving) right past the end of our road. Curiouser and curiouser, I thought, but such a lot of thinking was beginning to make my headspace hurt and the anxiety butterflies had started their workout in my tummy. There really is only one response to such uncertainty, so I thumped down on my seat – to let my feelings be known – and then proceeded to catch up on some shut-eye.

When the motion of rubber on tarmac became uneven I was jolted into consciousness and serious worry commenced. There was nothing recognisable here that could anchor me to time or place. The familiar dance of the butterflies I had experienced earlier became a frantic workout, involving cartwheels, back flips and double somersaults.

We had fetched up by some ruinous mill-type building, with portacabins and lots of cars, seemingly abandoned, decorating the landscape. Not only was the unfamiliar a cause for concern but B and David immediately deserted me and I didn’t know if they would ever come back. As you can imagine, I followed their footsteps with my eyes out on stalks and my neck stretched to the back window, which is a very long way, even in our little Fabia. Well, what a funny thing. B and David were giving one of those abandoned cars the once over and, before you could say “Ben, meet your new Munromobile”, B had driven off in it with a strange man, and David was sitting beside me.

It turns out that my van is being traded in for a newer model. Oh my goodness me, you should see it. Well, actually you can, here’s some photos. Will you take a look at that!

 

The mileage is only just over half way round the clock (whatever that means), and everything works as it should, which is a real novelty. Now the van won’t blow a fuse if she forgets the back door lock is dysfunctional, and neither will she get the key stuck in the passenger lock, because that one doesn’t work either. The audio system does the job properly too, which means melodious tunes. No longer do musicians sound as if they are undergoing some very nasty examination while trying to sing at the same time. And, if that isn’t enough, just look at the paintwork. I know appearances are only skin deep but I can do shallow if it means a spiffing car. I can tell you, I will be sitting up very proudly as we make for Munro country, waving my paw as if, for all the world, I was related to royalty.

And….., as if that wasn’t enough, very soon it is going to look like this – hells bells!

Van

When B came back from her test drive she asked for my opinion, and obviously that was a no- brainer. What adventures we are going to have as veritable owners of our Renault Kangoo, which is seven years younger than my van. I wish B could lose seven years just like that. Then we might be able to get up our Munros one heck of a lot quicker.

I’m going to call my new car/van Tanka. It’s after the poetry competition I enter most Tuesdays. While a Tanka is a form of poetry originating from Japan, my new Munromobile looks a little bit like a tank and drives like pure poetry in motion.

We got Tanka from Fraser Murray Cars Sales in Penicuik, near Edinburgh, and his is a v. v. v commendable outfit, getting lots of those five star things. I even got a donation in my fundraising pot. I’m going to add Fraser Murray Car Sales to my team, when I get back from my weekend away. Me and B are telling everyone to get their cars there.

I couldn’t sleep on the way back home. My tummy was in such a state. I don’t even know how to describe it. I had got so v. v. v excited, but now there was another drama going on and the butterflies were in free-fall. What was going to happen to myvan. B and me had started our big Munro challenge in it and, in fact, it had been our accommodation for the first 50 Munros. I know it had let us down a few times, and had more quirky qualities than you could shake a stick at, but it had character and I had grown to love it. We had even identified our own special song in it; albeit with Ronan Keating singing in a pitch something akin to soprano. I also got worried about Micky, who had come back for shelter again this year, as winter approached; how would he keep warm now? Apparently, the new model was top security, not even a little field mouse could gain entry. Then there were all my mini paw prints, each one denoting a Munro I had climbed. Where could I put them now, with nine windows taking up all the space? Oh dearie me, now I wasn’t so sure at all.

IMG_4219

I know B’s tummy was in a similar state to mine, and I believe hers started going wobbly when she produced that thing they call a credit card. Me and B had a big conflab when got home. B reassured me that we would find somewhere to put my paw prints and, while she is going to get a bit of kit that becomes a bed, for the sake of her old bones, I can still have my cushion beside her. Also, and oh this took my breath away, as Micky hasn’t been back for quite a while now, it is highly likely that he is a goner.

B was still going on but by this time my head space was like mince, and I was flat out dreaming of a Renault Kangoo parked far below towering Munro peaks.

 

BS1 476
And so to bed

Love Ben untitled 1xx

Sensational

Oh golly gosh,

Thank you so much for coming to visit a dog poet. My poems for Colleen’s weekly poetry challenge are a take on life from a canine perspective. We poets – to date I seem to be the only dog poet –  write one of the structured poems permitted and have to integrate, as synonyms, the two words given as a prompt. Though, for the first poem of each month, we can choose our own words. This week I have chosen the words scent and sad and I am doing a short Haibun , followed by a Tanka. The Haibun is a piece of prose, with a title, written in the first person canine singular, and it occurs in the present moment. The poem that follows – never seeks to repeat, quote from or explain the prose. It should reflect some aspect of the prose by introducing a different step in the narrative through a microburst of detail – seemingly different, yet somehow connected; gosh!

To be honest, I’m not sure I’ve captured all that but, then again, I’m only a dog and I’ve done my best for my first attempt. The Tanka that follows is structured in 5 lines, with a syllable count of 5, 7, 5, 7, 7. I’m pretty sure I’ve managed that, which isn’t bad for a dog, even a dog poet.

You can find out about it all and, have a go yourself. by clicking below:

Colleen’s poetry challenge

Sensational

sensational

She entered my life as a burst of starlight on a winter’s night, igniting my senses. The sky is now bluer and mown grass more fragrant, while autumn leaves laugh and crackle under foot. Our walks in the forest inject my heart with joy and – with soft steps – I dance, trying to catch moving shadows on the path. Here, verdant trees – swaying in the breeze – filter sunlight.

When she goes away, as she sometimes has to, a despondency numbs my senses and then a grey mantilla shrouds my life. I am reminded of lines from the poet, Yevtushenko:
“ The colours in my eyes will fade, when your face sets.”

Though – of course – being a dog, my senses will be extinguished when her smell is gone.

Her smell fading now
Each moment a crying shame.
Disrupted, my world –
Like neglected flower heads –
Drooping, lifeless, sees no sun.

By Ben, the dog poet ©2019

Additionally, you can read all the poems from last week here: Tuesday poetry challenge recap

And, if you need a little bed time reading to send you to sleep, you can read lots of my poems ever, here: The dog poet’s poems

You can also read all about my big walking charity challenge here: Mucky Boots and Flawless Paws, but that might keep you awake at night, or possibly give you nightmares – hee, hee!

Love Ben xx 0

Ben’s weekly poem #Senryu

Thank you so much for coming to visit a dog poet. My poems for Colleen’s weekly poetry challenge are a take on life from a canine perspective. We poet’s write one of the structured poems permitted and have to integrate, as synonyms, the two words given as a prompt. For the first poem of each month we poets choose our words. This week I have chosen the words meaning and passion.

Click here to find out more and enter

You can read all the poems from last week here: Tuesday poetry challenge 121, recap

And, if you need a little bed time reading to send you to sleep, you can read all my poems ever, here: The dog poet’s poems

You can also read all about my big walking charity challenge here: Mucky Boots and Flawless Paws

 

This weeks poem is about how me and my person feel when we get to the top of one of the big mountains on our challenge.

 

Our joint desire
Heartfelt union of a pulse
Definition – love.

By Ben, the dog poet ©2019

 

 

Ben’s weekly poetry

Thank you so much for coming to visit a dog poet. My poems for Colleen’s weekly poetry challenge are a take on life from a canine perspective. We poet’s write one of the structured poems permitted and have to integrate, as synonyms, the two words given as a prompt. For the first poem of each month we poets choose our words. This week I have chosen the words vulnerable and pause.

Click here to find out more and enter

You can read all the poems from last week here: Tuesday poetry challenge 121, recap

And, if you need a little bed time reading to send you to sleep, you can read all my poems ever, here: The dog poet’s poems

You can also read all about my big walking charity challenge here: Mucky Boots and Flawless Paws

 

Rescue Centrekennel

Seeking happiness
My fragility laid bare
Over the threshold
Like a precious question mark.
Waiting, quivering, I hope.

By Ben, the dog poet ©2019

 

 

 

 

 

Ben’s View #Haiku

Thank you so much for coming to visit a dog poet. My poems for Colleen’s weekly poetry challenge are a take on life from a canine perspective. We poet’s write one of the structured poems permitted and have to integrate, as synonyms, the two words given as a prompt. This week the words are slow and work.

Click here to find out more and enter

You can read all the poems from last week here: Tuesday poetry challenge 120, recap

And, if you need a little bed time reading to send you to sleep, you can read all my poems ever, here: The dog poet’s poems

You can also read all about my big walking charity challenge here: Mucky Boots and Flawless Paws

 

images

Ben’s View

Window on the world

Dogs employed herding sheep

Farmer strolls behind

By Ben the dog poet © 2019

 

Ben’s Review of the Year – 2018, Part Two

Friends, collies, bereaved dogs,

Summer – continued

As I left you at end of my annual review, part one, the old girl was hanging in there, just. I was being all care and understanding, and I even gave her my ‘find your treat’ puzzle game, to help distract her from her demented troubles. It worked wonderfully for a little while and the head work needed sent her, after she found all her treats, into a lovely peaceful sleep.

However, on 2nd September, the balance was disturbed, the see-saw tipped and went with a big bang on the floor. We came home from our caravan and phoned the vet the next morning. I was kept in the bedroom just in case, despite my best efforts, I wasn’t able to keep my ADHD tendencies under control. I could tell what was going on though, all too well. There was a lot of that sweet talking and I heard the whirr of that machine that blows hot air on your fur, meaning the old girl was getting a shampoo and blow dry. It wouldn’t do me, I’m terrified of the thing, but the old girl seems to love it. Next Andy, our favourite vet, arrived and there was a bit of talking, then some sobbing and everything was calm and quiet. It felt very peaceful, as if a struggling spirit had been set free.

img_3743a

How was I to know that I would miss her soooooooooo much. Getting back on the soft furnishings was no compensation AT ALL. I could smell her everywhere: in the house, in the garden, in the car, in our caravan, in our forest. It was only in wide open spaces, with a fresh wind bringing a myriad of smells, that I got any relief. After my walk and back at home she was all over the place again. Us dogs don’t have big frontal lobes, to rationalise everything and know all about a ripe old age, or a wonderful life; we rely on our senses to understand our world and all I knew was the old girl should have been there but wasn’t. I would just curl up and go into a v. v. v low mood. Apparently, if it wasn’t for the fact that I was still eating my dinner my people would have been consulting Andy.

222a

Eventually, the bi-peds started talking about getting another dog sooner than they had planned, as a companion for Ben to help make me happier. Now, please don’t think I’m ungrateful. I know all about best intentions and things like that but I had mixed feelings on the matter. A new pal and a young one that I could play with would be brilliant but, how could I replace the old girl with a new model? After all, I have grown to love her over nearly four years.

Autumn

Nothing came of it in the end because my topsy turvy year did a double somersault when David did a big fall down while we were out hill walking. It wasn’t one of those skidding slides they often do, or a quick down and up trip, that are frequent too. This was more of an out of control crash onto more rocks – ouch. I was out in front, of course, so didn’t actually capture the moment, but I knew there was a bit of drama going on by the faces of the three women coming down the hill towards us. We did lots of holding on to each other and trying to walk but it wasn’t any good, something major had gone wonky. I didn’t like the noises that accompanied these efforts at all. In the end we settled for sitting on a rock and getting very cold. It all seemed a bit pointless to me because we were a long way from home and my dinner time was getting a bit pressing but, in all honesty, I didn’t have a better solution to offer. The women who had see the moment of crisis hung around and did lots of talking into those machines that freak me out when put to my ear. I’m not very good with strangers so my anxiety enzymes started out on a swim around my internal tubes. They were very nice and gentle people so it was just a bit of doggy paddle really until eventually, a big tribe of hulking bi-peds – carrying god knows what on their backs – came in waves over the hills ahead of us. My enzymes went into a fierce race of butterfly stroke in my tummy as 34 of them came towards us and I knew I had to defend my pack; it wasn’t a pretty sight.

B seemed ready to desert David while she tried to pacify me but I wasn’t having any of it. In the end she had to remove me from the scene altogether, leaving David’s fate in the hands of the marauding gang. B tried to reassure me, saying they knew what they were doing, but I wasn’t convinced. I didn’t like walking away one little bit. The worst part was when this terrifying bird, all roar and thunder, with scary flapping wings came down and stole my person.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

B wouldn’t stop and just seemed intent on going back the way we had come at a rate of knots. I didn’t see David that night, or the night after, or the night after that. His smells were added to the old girl’s and I was beside myself with grief. I did manage a little bit of dinner every night but otherwise I was distraught.

Then, on one of those days when I had been for a long drive with B, followed by much sitting around waiting for her to come back, I spotted two figures coming towards the car. I had to look and look and I didn’t want to get it wrong and be even more disappointed but… I was right. Oh what joy, the best day of my life, EVER.  There was David in front but, oh deary me, he was being pushed in an ugly wheelie thing. It wasn’t very becoming. When he eventually got in the car and he turned around to stroke me David smelt a bit like my vets. Perhaps Andy had been to see him and tried to make him better. It seemed to me like it was only a job half done. In fact, whatever had been done, or left undone, necessitated a whole cacophony of equipment, much of it ending up on top of me anytime we went out in the car. I really didn’t like all this alien stuff in my house, it made me scared, all those awful wheels and David spending an age to get anywhere with that awful cage thing he pushed along in front of him, and B never sitting down like she used to do all the time. Life had just become even more awful. Ben doesn’t do change well.

collage 1

It was a very different type of routine too. B and me went out in the morning and I had a run with my ball in a new forest, instead of with David at our Mabie Forest. Then I went to work with B and had to sit in my soft crate all day long; It was soooo boring. Later, on our way home, I had another game in the forest and then went home to see David but he was like a different person with that cage thing as an appendage, always in front of him blocking me out. I did meet lots of lovely people at B’s work and I had been on my  v. v. v best behaviour except for just one day. I got really scared when someone came in our office and I let them know it, in no uncertain terms: barking and lunging and getting a bit of skirt. Then I was in disgrace and not allowed to go back again, so we all just had to make the best of it.

Winter

At the end of November I began to think about how my review of the year was going to shape up. It had been a year to test the moral fibre of a young dog and I had done my best. All the time I just had to keep the old girl in my mind because she coped with any changes that were thrown at her and never seem to mind. Even so, I really couldn’t say my life had got better and better, like I had been able to say in the previous three reviews. That is until….

img_4198a

 

My people had been thinking of me all the time after all. They couldn’t wait till Christmas to give me my big present. I was beside myself with happiness at last. Actually, I didn’t know what the funny thing was but, where there are balls there is light.

 

Apparently, despite all my poetry writing, I’m not such a smart Border Collie after all. I just could not work out how to make the whirligig thing fire. I knew where the balls came from, right down next to my nose, but I had no idea how you got them there. My people did all this strange hand clapping in the air, to make me lift my nose from the ground but it was no good. As far as I was concerned it was just a magic machine, nothing I could influence, my job was to run after the balls it launched and catch them. I was v. v. v good at it too.

Seemingly, it was meant to be a DIY toy for me, so I could exercise myself because David couldn’t take me to the forest and I couldn’t go to work with B anymore. We managed OK though, because David’s frontal cage had gone and he had progressed to hobbling about with a couple of sticks. He could pick up the ball with my thrower and make the magic happen. It was safer than doing the throwing too, while trying to keep upright on one stick. A big wobble at this stage and we could be back to square one. Mind you, standing up must have been hard work because we  were never out for long at one time, just in and out  like yo-yos – with a little rest in between times – to make sure my exercise was up to date.

David disappeared overnight shortly after my ball machine came and B was busy all night transforming our living room. Lots of lights went up, holders for candles were dispersed, a tree decorated and other bits and pieces arranged about the room; we were getting ready for Christmas; it all had to be ready for David when he came home the next day, smelling of the vet again.

After this the atmosphere lightened in our house. Two sticks gave way to one stick and then no sticks at all. There were still lots of painful squeaks from David, but they were less frequent and lower in volume. There was also more activity going on about the place, with packing up of some Ben essentials: food and bowl, toys, wrapped Christmas presents and, of course, my balls. David and B put one or two of their things in the car too. We drove away for our Christmas holiday. Me and B were able to get out on the hills every day, and I was beginning to get back to my old self. I learnt that David was doing his best to get fit so that he could take me to Mabie Forest when we got home, and that made me deliriously merry. Life would get back to normal at last. On Christmas Day, I had so many parcels to open and I got so excited tearing the paper off. I had lots of soft toys (some that seemed uncannily familiar) and new balls with squeaks that I hadn’t destroyed yet, as well as loads of yummy treats, lots of dog beer and a special dinner. We were all cuddly happy again. It had been a long year.

After our holiday a funny thing happened. We didn’t go home at all but went away on roads without any smells I knew. We arrived at a house I’d never been to and I met people I had never known before. They were lovely because they smelt of dog and gave me treats. I also made a special friend called Buzz.  We are soul mates because of our shared passion – balls, of course.

We went out for evening walks together and went to the park together. I bet you can guess what we played ⊗⊗⊗⊗⊗. Buzz kept pinching my ball but he is just a little boy being mischievous, so I let him away with it. Anyway, I knew I would get brownie points with my people if I didn’t make a fuss and they go along way in the treats department. We also went to the beach and there were five of us playing about, having fun. Merry, Mimi and Kera were there and I have corresponded before. It was so lovely to meet them at last. Their people are helping me raise lots of dosh for clever helping dogs, through my Munro Challenge, and I really should have done more of a really big thank you but someone had a ball in their hand at the time so I was somewhat distracted.

I had never stayed in a house with other people before, so we were all a bit nervous about the whole venture, with my anxiety enzymes ready to jump into action at the first sign of Ben’s imagined threats.  I didn’t get much freedom, but it probably saved me from myself and when we came away Ben had done reasonably well; it’s even possible that I might even be invited again. I was allowed to stay up to see in the New Year, when there was lots of that hugging and kissing stuff that bi-peds go in for. They also had glasses of fizzy stuff and, I thought to myself, this sparkle is for all of us, for the coming year. Here’s to 2019 – Cheers.

download (3)

Then, with that profound thought in my head, I fell fast asleep.

img_3505a
And so to bed

Love Ben xx 0