Rastus

Rastus

We had a dog when I was young
Of dubious descent
A Kelpie, Labrador type cross
You’d say, a chance event

We got him from the pound back then
That’s the way that it was done
No fancy breeders or pet shops
You nagged … and then you won

A trip was planned and off you went
One Saturday to choose
A dog that jumped or sat or barked
Or maybe one that snoozed

And then you had to pick a name
Where everyone agreed
A name that matched his temperament,
His colour, and his breed

Our dog was mad! Would bound about,
We never had control.
He jumped the fence, went underneath,
Would dig another hole.

Escaping from the yard each day
He roamed the neighbourhood.
Stole loaves of bread, sheets from the line,
Generally did nothing good.

He could be a good fielder
When cricket was our game
But spoilt it all by running off
When the ball we tried to claim.

I’ve never seen food go so fast
When put up in his bowl
You’d have to say at the very least
He was lacking in control.

This all was forty years ago,
Or maybe forty-five.
And he’s been gone a long time now
But the memories survive.

In terms of dogs I guess you’d say
There could have been regret
But even now we love, as then,
Rastus, our family pet.

Penny O’Shea
29 May 2018