bovinaphobia

Ginger-mutt growls at the thunder, 
is unphased by fireworks.
He is the fiercest hunter
unafraid of whatever lurks
in the undergrowth. He laughs
at the rooster’s spurs and beak,
but at the sight of the little calf
the bold cattle dog just freaks.

 

Written for the dVerse Monday Quadrille prompt “Bold-ly go” – 44 words including ‘bold’ – about our red heeler cattle dog who is scared of cows. The calf kept following him and he kept hiding behind T1. He’s also scared of llamas, but that’s just sensible. 

0800 27th Dec, vicarious snoozing

0800
Ginger-mutt is caught out, but he sees it is just me and knows there will be no roar of “get off the couch!”. The rules are different before anyone else is up.

bluebells and bell-grass, haibun

December, and the first month of summer is upon us. Walking up the hill is an effort now in the heat. But I stay on the road in the sun, where any snakes are easier to see, rather than walk in the long dry grass or the leaflitter under the trees.

under a lilly-pilly moon

 Under the blood moon

…no, that’s wrong,

Ginger-Mutt doesn’t eat nachos

I made nachos last night with the new red heeler pup, aka the ginger-mutt, staring up at me the whole time and snapping up any scraps I dropped for him. So the d’Verse “spicing it up prompt” seemed very appropriate when I finally time to read it.  The challenge was to include the names of several spices/mixes in a poem.

 

Ginger-mutt looks up, Egyptian eyes beseeching
waiting for manna to fall:
oh oh, those heavenly scraps of beef
disappearing with a snap
into the salt and pepper muzzle.

The air is embroidered with curlicues of scent:
cumin and onions, golden-soft,
and those kohl-rimmed eyes, pleading, are raised again
filled with a desire no less intense for its silence.

But, the beef must go into the pot now
(although perhaps the chef may let fall a little more largesse).

Tomatoes, beans, corn, chilis, brown sugar and a touch of vinegar
and at the last, when the heat is off,
for a balancing touch of bitterness
and a final russet tint to the fragrance:
just a puff of cacao and cinnamon.
Food fit for the gods!

But not, alas, now the cooking is done,
for the ginger-mutt,
who must now make do with food fit for a dog.