Water Beasties at River House

There were zillions of minnows in the river 

They lolled in the shallow warm water 

Their lives were not without peril 

 Being favorite snacks for the otter 

Our clams lived next to the river bank 

We’d step on them when we’d go in 

When bored we’d pry their shells open 

An act which I now think a sin 

The crayfish dug holes in the sand 

They’d dart in their homes when we neared 

Their claws made them look like fierce lobsters 

Even so it was humans they feared 

Some of the frogs had homes in the field 

And the other frogs swam in the river 

Easy to catch frogs in either place 

When we grabbed them they’d croak and they’d shiver 

Snapping turtles swam in the river at dusk 

Steve shot a huge buck with his bow 

We hauled it to shore behind our green boat 

Turtle murder, the lowest of the low 

Mudpuppies were the weirdest of creatures 

They’d rest on the deep river floor 

Sometimes I’d spot one right through the ice 

They sure are an ugly eyesore

Considering Turtles

Lizard Observations

About eighty million lizards

live in California's Mojave Desert

I know this to be true 

because I found it on Google

although they failed to report   

the total lizard population of North America

My final guess, 1.2 billion

which would mean more lizards 

than human beings and dogs combined

One of these colonies

is located outside our house

on our steps

the sidewalk 

the patio deck

in the driveway

next to the garage 

under the recycling bin 

here and there in the flower beds 

Our little guests love to relax in the sunshine

where they slumber with their eyes shut tight

then retreat to their lizard dens at sunset 

Cincinnati lizards are neither angry nor obstreperous

They never bare their tiny sharp teeth

or make unpleasant growling noises 

Quite the reverse, they are exceedingly shy

and flee at the first sign of human intruders

You would not believe how speedy these lizards can be

though they are only four or five inches long

The dog has never been able to catch one 

despite trying so many times 

They zoom straight up walls

scurry into minuscule holes

vanish in the tall grass or the rock pile  

Five years ago not a single lizard lived on our block 

but now dozens of them 

maybe hundreds 

share our space 

I am pleased they have joined our family 

We are lonely and bored during the pandemic 

and, thanks to our lizard friends 

we live in a more lively and exotic place

Beasts of the Night

The close of dusk, I lit my fire

Moonless and darkening

though the crown of evergreen branches

spread its design across the gray-blue sky

Burning pine logs crackled and spit

shooting out sparks which spun to the grass

then flickered and disappeared

By nine o’clock the world had turned pitch black

I called my wife on my cell phone

and told her it was eery, even scary

The park was deserted, no lights, no sounds

A good stomping ground for rural thugs or killers

Just then, a growling noise

I looked to my right

and saw two pairs of eyes

glowing red from the firelight

Then black masks, white snouts, pointy ears

A pair of large raccoons 

side by side, standing at attention

thirty feet away, staring at me

I felt my heart pounding

“Get out of here!” I screamed

“Get out of here!”

“Get out of here!”

So loud I even frightened myself

But the raccoons stood their ground

My wife said over the phone

“When raccoons growl they are rabid”

“Please get in the car, please lock the doors”

A third raccoon appeared

around the edge of the picnic table.

“Get away, get away!” I shouted

clenching my fists, nails digging into my palms

But he too stood unperturbed

knowing his raccoon family owned the campground 

I got up from my chair, retreated to my tent

pulled the zipper tight, tied it shut with a twist tie

I heard pots and pans clanging

A box of kitchen stuff crashed to the ground

And then eventually quiet

Later the beasts of the night

wandered in and out of my dreams

On "Portrait of Pierre Loti" by Henri Rousseau

Henri has completed my portrait

A masterpiece, if I say so myself  

Rarely have I looked more handsome 

My piercing eyes

My Mona-Lisa-like expression

And, best of all, my gorgeous black and yellow stripes

We felines, indeed, are rulers of the Universe

I invited my manservant to pose with me

His name is Loti, Pierre

He came along with the house  

You might think Pierre somewhat dim  

in his turban and starched white collar

with his wrinkly crinkly mustache

He is not the brightest lightbulb in the chandelier 

But his duties require little intellect

Pierre brings me food and water when I wish them

Keeps me well supplied with catnip

Provides fresh sand daily in my box de litère

My bed for naps, my toys to amuse me

Perhaps a ball of yarn

He will pet me for hours at a time

Or take me on outings to the Bois de Boulogne 

Pierre asks for nothing in return

And I rarely show him any attention

He is ecstatic if I give him a single purr  

If feeling whimsical, I might bring him a dead mouse

Our relationship, seemingly lopsided, is fair and equitable

My sheer presence is fully rewarding to Pierre

I have only the one misgiving

I am less than amused by his smoking  

Creatures From Our Youth: Six Shadorma*

The Elusive Pine Snake

Six feet long

Lazing in the sun

Slinks along

Ribs so strong

Pine snake’s jaunt has just begun

Never captured one

The Mosquito’s Demise

Thief in flight

Searching for red blood

Finds its site

Poised to bite

I smack that bandit, Whack!  Thud!

Messy end to fight 

The Dog’s Lesson 

Porcupine

Nests high in the oak

Set to dine

Twigs and vine

Gives our dog a painful poke

Quills in nose, huge whine 

The Fearsome Snapping Turtle 

Jaws of steel

Swims past us at dusk 

So surreal 

Fear we feel

Ancient creature, massive, brusque

Eyes us for his meal

Bloodsucker Invasion 

On my shin

My legs or my toes

Breaks the skin

Sucks blood in

Then it hides out in my clothes

Much to my chagrin

The Bat Scare 

Flies through room 

Our mom calls for aid 

Dive and zoom

Grab the broom 

Get him, Steve is unafraid 

Swift bat meets his doom 

*Similar to a haiku, a shadorma is a six-line poem with 3, 5, 3, 3, 7, and 5 syllables per line.  It can be rhymed or unrhymed.  

Support Squirrel Update

“Flight to Ohio delayed after woman 

brings ‘emotional support squirrel’” 

[Headline, Cincinnati Enquirer, Oct. 8, 2018]

  

My name is Lupita Louie

Some of you know me as the Squirrel Girl

Yes I was she on the Horizon flight

Terrorized for only wanting emotional support

Arrested, interrogated, investigated, humiliated

Emotional Support —  Ha Ha!

Horizon Airlines 

the satanic home of Anti-Support

My squirrel’s name is Lupitia

Yes, she took her name from me

her best friend, her sister in spirit

Lupitia is two years and two months old

I rescued her

when her deceased mother had an unfortunate 

experience with my cat

Lupitia and I go everywhere together

The soda fountain, the cookie store, the dentist

She is always welcome

True, she is terrified of people 

But still she is gentle and harmless

Why should Horizon Airlines be hostile to rodents?

What’s next?  No chinchillas?  

They allow miniature support horses, for goodness sake

In any case 

We did fly back to Cleveland

I bought my new ticket on Jet Blue

The emotionally supportive airline

I duct taped the windows in Lupitia’s crate

and told the stewardess she was a support kitten

Lupitia never let out a peep

If you are outraged by my story

and want to give emotional support

Please go to my GoFundMe page

and donate ten dollars 

Sincerely yours 

Lupita Louie

Menominee River Creatures

Our crayfish dug homes in the river floor

They’d dart in their holes when we neared

Their sharp little claws were like lobsters

Nonetheless, it was humans they feared

Snapping turtles drifted by at dusk

Steve shot a huge buck with his bow

We towed it to shore with our green rowboat

Turtle murder, that made us feel low

The Great Blue Heron is a wading bird

She grows over four feet in height

And loves to eat fish and water bugs

So thrilling to see her in flight 

The otter had nests on the river bank

Steve captured a bunch with his trap

He sold their pelts for fifty cents each

To a down and out grungy old chap

Mallards are the most handsome duck of all

The male shows off his green head 

I went hunting for ducks with Dick Sawyer

But never took a shot, when all’s said 

Mudpuppies surely are the ugliest

And they live over twenty long years

They like to eat minnows and fish eggs

Near the top of my childhood river fears 

The loons lived together in the Channel

These are birds that can fly very fast 

They swim underwater to hunt for fish  

And head South when the summer is past 

The clams lay quietly near the shoreline 

We’d step on one when we’d go in 

For kicks we would pry their shells open 

An act which I now call a sin 

There were millions of minnows all summer

They swam in the shallow warm water

Life as a minnow was perilous

Being favorite snacks of the otter

We might see a seagull every now and then

Though Green Bay was three miles away

I worried the seagulls had gotten off course 

Though they never seemed to show much dismay

Water bugs swam near the river bank

They flitted about, here and there

There were hundreds of buglets in each big swarm

Every one of them heading nowhere 

NOLA Family Pets: Iko, Little Paws, and Cody

Our NOLA family’s been growing 

First Iko, a doggie, became their new pet

Next he was joined by puppy Little Paws

Then Cody the kitten, perhaps the cutest yet 

Iko in his youth was a mutt of the streets

Eking out a living on Tulane Ave

Kiersta found him and brought him home

To a life no one dreamed he might have 

Iko is mainly a smallish-sized Schnauzer

Maybe nine, maybe ten inches high

He’s got a glistening coat that is silvery-gray

And a sparkling glint in his eye

Any noise on the step, Iko races to the door

Eager to greet whoever comes in

He stretches up their legs with his busy front paws

Checking the odors from places they’ve been 

Everyone agrees that Iko’s a cuddler

Joining his humans on the sofa or chair

He lays right down with his head on their lap

Contented and happy with a life that’s so fair

From dawn till midnight Iko’s ready for a walk

Pulling at first, then sniffing this and that

He stares at the people a full block away

And his tail starts wagging when he spots a black cat 

Little Paws arrived just two years ago

Vida picked him out from an online ad

He travelled from Georgia on a jumbo jet

Little Paws met Iko, he was so glad

Little Paws is just like Iko’s younger brother

Following Iko wherever he goes

When Iko smells  some weeds, Little Paws smells them too

They stay side by side when they lie down to doze 

Everyone in the neighborhood thinks Little Paws a cutie-pie

One half Yorkie, the other half Chin

Even though he is smaller than Iko

It’s easy to imagine him Iko’s twin

Like Iko, Little Paws loves going on walks

He strains on his leash as if out on a mission

Yelping at bad guys across the street

And watching the big dogs with a healthy suspicion

This little dog has his own Teddy Bear

Which he bring to the grownups to play tug of war

Last week Little Paws tugged Teddy too hard

Poor Teddy’s innards, all over the floor

Little Paws is also a talented jumper

Leaping three feet to get up on the bed

This dog has the energy of an Eveready bunny

No one thinks Little Paws a sleepyhead

Now there’s a kitten named Cody in the house

Five or six pounds with fur that’s jet black

Cody seems to think that he is a dog

And his brothers have made him a part of the pack

Cats and dogs are quite different of course

Cody has more of an independent streak

Even so he’ll come over and rub on your leg

And his purr has a special kitten mystique

At mealtime Cody sneaks onto the table

Justin grabs him and puts him back down

Then Cody’s back up again searching for snacks

He may be a cat but he’s also a clown

Cody loves to wrestle with Little Paws

Though the dog is the mightier of the two

Neither Little Paws or Iko would ever hurt Cody

The dogs and the cat are best friends, so true blue

Leo and Vida are pals with their pets

Vida’s been thinking of being a vet one day

The children, the dogs, the cat — one big bunch 

A house that is teeming with whoopee and play 

Is It Better To Be A Duck?

On summer days I stroll through the park

And ponder the ducks on the lake

I ask, “Is a duck’s life better?” 

It seems such a sweet piece of cake

Ducks float on the pond so peacefully

Dip down now and then for a bite 

They watch their darling baby ducklings 

You never see a Mom get uptight 

Ducks do many things human’s can’t

Number one, the ability to fly

They take off with ease from the water

In seconds are high in the sky

Perhaps they are not the best walkers

But no one is better at swimming 

Their feet form remarkable paddles

Made perfect for diving and skimming

Ducks also are sociable creatures

They spend the whole day in their flocks

They form perfect V-formations

Their leader is watchful for hawks

I also think ducks are so clever

Migration to Mexico is easy

I get confused on my way downtown

A Mexican route leaves me queasy

And ducks talk less than we humans

They mostly say “quack quack quack quack”

They have sad quacks and happy quacks and surprised quacks too

And hungry quacks when seeking a snack

Ducks eat more healthy than people

They do nuts and berries and seeds

I once saw a duck eat a baby frog 

Those  vegan ducks like to eat weeds

The adults have titillating sex lives

They’re monogamous but for only one year

It’s sort of like Hollywood marriages

“So long, Sweet, you’ve been such a dear”

Ducks have their babies each year in the spring

You see them go by with their mother

The ducklings swim in a perfect row

Keeping track of each sister and brother

Like people, ducks do have some enemies

The worst is the crocodile 

A duck has to keep a watchful eye

If she hopes to preserve her lifestyle

There’s one horrid truth that I’m loathe to bring up

It’s that humans enjoy eating ducks

This fact raises deep moral issues

To eat or be eaten is the crux

So here is the ultimate question

Is it true that it’s better to be a duck? 

A duck’s life, while good, isn’t perfect

To survive, for most ducks, takes some pluck