Schuster, an Ode
Thank you, Lord, for our little dog Schuster,
So named for the exquisite, literary affinity
Last survivor, dynamic duo, Simon and Schuster,
Beautiful dachshunds, delightful companions,
Walking company, brave Simon expired.
Schuster grown old, his grey face attesting,
Liquid dark eyes, always compelling,
His numerous, glorious red-brown hairs, Lord,
All of them: properly counted, properly numbered
In that holy divine, bright-shining dog book.
I celebrate with Seraph and Cherub unending
Our dog’s many turnings, his short legs working,
Precious, four feet in the air, for belly rubs
Begging, thereby wags a tail,
Let not someone’s failure darken the pale,
Behavior unseemly, humanity frail.
Ah, Lord, your gift, graciously given,
Found in the trunk, one left
In the litter, eight months of age,
Let him wag his tail!
The parking lot hummed as cars
Came and went, a Cracker Barrel
Saturday, she bought him for a hundred
Dollars not rent. Schuster came home,
A strange little puppy, destructive of course.
Attracted to books at that early age,
Chewed up their bindings, their covers,
Their print. Now age has claimed him,
Poor guy and his teeth. Loses them
Yearly, now gums his soft meat.
The flaw in his character, Lord,
You know well; he’s skittish, exceedingly,
Yelps, barks and low rumbles, constantly
Aimed at whoever comes here, to work
Or to visit, he’s first-alert warning,
Loud, like a fire-burned demon from Hell.
Silencing Schuster requires lots of yelling,
Reduced to that grumble like an idling old Ford,
Sitting there purring like a cat who is bored.
Schuster the sleeper, the any food eater,
Beloved companion, though wires daily crossed,
For certain, a gift to be always cherished,
God’s giving is strange. Still though we thank the Lord,
Give praise to God’s name, for sending us Schuster,
Whose flaws and whose virtues endear us,
Inflame us, through love and affection sustain us,
While love and affection remain.
