I Saw The Dog That Missed The Farm

I Saw The Dog That Missed The Farm

I saw the dog that missed the farm.
He stood where he had been released,
staring puzzled at the car,
that shoved him forth and drove away.
Go find a farm, he heard them say,
but in his repertoire of words,
heard spoken through his early years,
it seemed that he could not recall,
just what a farm stood for at all.
Perhaps a farm was some place nice,
that housed stray dogs inside its yard.
The farm might even be a man,
or woman that would understand,
that dogs like most to guard their home,
not amble idle down the road.
But more immediate than that,
his great concern, Where am I at?
Then hunger nudged him to a walk,
and rain was cold later that night.
He tried to pick up on the scent,
of where his former home might be,
but each time that he tried, a car,
would scare him with a horn's loud roar.
So several days he wandered close
to where he saw his loved ones last.
Until he knew he must move on
and find the farm on down the road.

I grew up around farmers of chickens and hogs,
I know how most farmers deal with wild dogs.

Reviews

[Ed Hart]

this one's a little Frostie, which to my mind is high praise...Phibby, you are truly a marvel...if I could get you to slow down, I'd like to talk to you about Friday night...

[Phibby Venable]

The dog in the poem is alive and well..he guards my yard and hides
all his dog bones in obvious locations.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Poor doggy. I love my dog.

[W.k.kortas]

Dogs ain't the only ones who lose their bearings when hearth and home get pulled out from under them. The last two lines are heavy, with a weight sufficient to crush bone, with foreboding. This is sober stuff, and fine stuff as well.