In Which I Contemplate Oregon Tides

A tide recedes and suddenly great rocks

Come up for air. At least I think there were

Some rocks beneath th'encrusted life and flocks

Of seagulls circling overhead. With her

Dog Jack a-snapping at the waves my sis

And I explored the slipp'ry rocks to find

The sort of things I'd been most sad to miss

The day before. What I had had in mind

Were tide pools like we saw so long ago

In California when I was a kid.

But here tide rocks have much the same, and so

I got my fill of starfish, mussels, did

Observe anenomes, one tiny crab,

And rarer still: a wild sea-going lab.

In Which I Ponder The Daily Fetch-A-Thon That Is My Sister's Life With Her New Dog

The newest member of our fam'ly's pack

Of crazy dogs, mayhap the craziest

Is Krissy's, a lab mix, whose name is Jack.

Built like a tank, excitable and, yes,

Relentless as a charge of army ants.

His rubber ball must constantly be thrown,

Best into mud or grass, or bedding plants

Along the fence. Long after one has grown

Well sick of playing, after Jack's big tongue

Is coated in a slick of mud and grass

Well mixed with drool, that ball must still be flung

And flung some more, or else Jack will harrass

One with his slimy toys all day and night.

It's what he loves the most, as is his right.