The Dog -- Some Let Me Make You

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Date Posted: 12:32:13 04/06/01 Fri
Author: meg
Subject: The Dog

The Dog sat on the moth eaten piece of carpet in front of the newly set fire. The dog used to be a rich chocolate brown but now he was more grey with brown clumps of matted hair. After he had been sitting there a while he got up, turned round and lay down. He had severe artheritis that had spread right through his body and the warmth of the fire was his only comfort.
On the mantle piece was one black and white photograph portrait of the dog's master, the picture showed an old but proud and smart man in a red hunting jacket. The dog had out lived him for many years but remembered him vividly as he had been there when he had died in the bright light of a full moon.
The dog was called Prince but now the meaning of his name was lost in him. As he lay as close to the fire as he could get the pain was so clear to see. He was a very old labrador who in his prime had been a head hunbting dog. Now he did nothing. His eyes were pink and the loose skin underneath them made them look large but in an unusual way. Sticky sleep filled the corners of both eyes and at the sides it was hard and crusty and stuck to his eye lashes. He was deaf in his right ear and was loosing his hearing in the other. His nose was constantly wet and streamed with a mixture of water and mucus, when he sniffed at anything there would be a trail from where his nose had touched the floor. Saliva dripped from his mouth and his jowles hung so loosely they pulled his lips and you could see the few yellow teeth he had left.
It was a cold and windy night with clouds moving over the moon all the time. In the lounge where the dog was the only light came from the fire. The dog was sillouetted with a roaring orange backdrop. The heavy dark red satin curtins blocked out any of the light the moon gave when it escaped the clouds.
But when the grand mother clock chimed the first stroke of ten, the dog pushed itself to his feet and limped through the house to the kitchen door. His walk was slow and disjointed and when he reached the door he pushed it with his nose and it opened. Leaving behind a wet patch on the door the dog went out. The cold and wind made his nose runnier and his eyes pinker. His pace was slower as the cold seeped into his old bones. As he hobbled, his tail flopped behind him. Once he got to the middle of the open garden he sat down on the damp grass on his hind legs.
The wind pushed a huge cloud through the sky and it revealed a full moon. The dog stretched his head up, his nose in the wind. With his head up it pulled at the loose folds of skin of his jowels. It made the wrinkled skin round his mouth tight so he was no longer dripping saliva and no longer could one see the few yellow teeth he had. He let out a howl which was loud and deep with a young but proud sound. His name was Prince.

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[> I like this more than your last two. The description is cleat and full. A couple of the "but"s annoy me like in "old but poud and smart." I think it would be better to actuaaly say what was unusual about the way his eyes are large since I can't quite imagine. -- Luke, 15:38:15 04/21/01 Sat

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[> being picky an odd: i dont like black and white photo which shows red hunting jacket. i thought at first maybe it added a personal level to the piece but decided in the end i didn't like it. i do like the desciptions of the dog being kind of nasty and i like the way it ends again on 'his name was prince' .... ooooh and i LOVE the roaring fire backdrop :) -- zeina, 19:14:28 04/25/01 Wed

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[> the best youve done on this board yet. I also like how youve made him repulsive at points but he also seems to have pride and standing. I like the image created by the last 2 paragraphs more than the first it makes him seem more of an action dog. Maybe its also because i wanted to forget about how terrible you made him seem at first. and i cant imagine a dog being fully white. Dogs are amazing. -- james, 17:38:56 04/30/01 Mon

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[> Some beautiful imagery. Interesting how you create the dog as some kind of tragic k9 hero. I think the gothic imagery might have worked better on a great dane. =) I don't like the way it ends on the His name was prince thing. I think it gives a somewhat Tennysonian false uplifting note to the end of the poem. -- George, 18:59:42 04/30/01 Mon

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