“Lost in Puppydom: Rory Dylan Stephen’s Puppydom”: RECOVERING FROM THE PROCEDURE AND HEADING TOWARD PUPPY BLUES?

RECOVERING FROM THE PROCEDURE AND HEADING TOWARD PUPPY BLUES?

I felt like a slow-motion character upon returning home. I wanted to play, run about and tussle but my wants were not transformed into physicality. It was not that I wanted to sleep mind you. I really couldn’t finish what I started and lost interest and the ability to focus.

There was no pain rather stiffness.

I had no interest in my kibble but simply couldn’t refuse a toasted bagel chunk with a piece of banana and peanut butter. How could anyone!

That bloody cone around my neck. I keep careening into objects. I must be hand fed and a water bowl must be lifted up to just outside the cone. Try sleeping with a cone on your head. The frustration is enough to transform you into “Conehead the Barbarian”. Can I last for 10 days with this contraption? I had a couple of pieces of gnocchi tonight for a treat and a big chunk was caught on my beard and the cone. I try to smell the ground but my cone bangs into it. It scoops up snow.

Rules rules rules.

No getting my underbelly wet to avoid infections. This means my walks in this never-ending slushy weather are not possible and even if it was dry outside I must take it easy for 10 days and that means short walks. My potty training has suffered as a result.

Due to the lack of my 8,000 human steps daily on walks and not being able to zoom about in the backyard snow how do I utilize all this puppy energy? Zooming around like a maniac inside which I am not supposed to do. I can’t stand being an idle pup.

We will get through this, and I still don’t understand what losing my manhood means and why it has made me and Bob so frustrated.

It will be difficult to avoid the Puppy Blues especially as this winter never seems to end. Bob has said many times just wait until spring, summer and fall! I have only really known winter but the wetness, cold, snow, freezing rain and darkness is beginning to bother me.

RKS Poetry Anthology: “Just the death of a dog”

Just the death of a dog

Just a dog you say?

Just a dog

15 years by your side

Morning, afternoon and evening walks all over town

The click clack of nails on the floor rushing to greet you

The bark at the door protecting you from threats

Warm greetings of wagging tail and kisses upon your return home

An eternal friend and protector no matter in what direction the wind blows

Cuddles under the sheets and the winter wind howls outside

Your alarmed rescue from a loud sneeze

Gratitude and nuzzling

Sensing your pain

Unfailing loyalty and

Memories memories memories

Your morning chunk of a toasted and buttered Montreal bagel a ritual (sesame seed preferred)

A last kiss on your now cold head

Must not be threatened by that final needle!

As he orders from The Land Beyond

“Just” a dog you say?

Robert K. Stephen

RKS Literature: Bad or simply strange people?

“We often complain how difficult or impossible it is to get on with certain people. That may of course be true. But many such people are not bad but only strange, and if you got to know them well with all their ins and outs and learnt how to deal with them properly, neither too wilfully nor too indulgently, then many of them might easily be brought to their senses.”

Johann Peter Hebel (1760-1826), “Dinner Outside”.

“Lost in Puppydom: Rory Dylan Stephen’s Puppydom”: LOST MY MANHOOD: SO GLAD TO BE AT HOME!

LOST MY MANHOOD: SO GLAD TO BE AT HOME!

Bob was up at 06:00 which is unusual. I ordinarily tell him, in my way, up and at em because it is time to perform my ablutions. Even stranger he had a bowl with a spoon coated in peanut butter ready for me to lick clean with some round crunchy thing in it that was somewhat bitter.

We went for our morning walk and Bob was extra pleased I did a double ablution. No breakfast for me! THIS IS GETTING STRANGER! Then in the car being held by Bob’s son A. WHERE ON EARTH ARE WE GOING?

My question was soon answered as we walked into the animal hospital. I AM BECOMING VERY NERVOUS! I jumped up on Bob’s lap for protection. Then a lady came and said let’s go Rory. OH NO!

She shaved a spot on my leg and then a pin prick which made me squeal and I remember waking up in a crate feeling SO COLD! Blankets were put on me and I felt warm and very sleepy. The lady then returned later and said , “Let’s Go Rory.” We opened the door and there was Bob and A waiting for me both giving me big hugs. I felt so happy and grateful. It hurt to walk and A carried me to the car and off we went home in a big snowstorm. Fay was at the door to greet me with sweet talk (she is so good with) and a gentle hug. I think I know what “home” means.

IT HAS BEEN A DAY OF CONFUSION, FEAR, GRATITUDE AND LOTS OF LOVE!

RKS 2024 Canadian Oscar Nominated Documentary Short: “perfectly a strangeness”

“perfectly a strangeness” a documentary short from Montreal based filmmaker Alison McAlpine has been nominated for Best Documentary Short at the upcoming 98th Oscars.

Three donkeys slowly clip clop their way up a Chilean mountainside to visit an observatory. For what reason we know not and there is no dialogue to assist in discovering that reason. They bray, roll in the dirt observe the observatory and head back down the mountain.

Carte blanche for your interpretation viewers. Beautiful cinematography of both the mountainside, donkeys and the exterior and interior of the observatory.

I like to think of this short as a cross between the Polish Italian film “Eo” where a donkey undertakes a journey of discovery of the human condition ending his fascinating trek at a slaughterhouse to be made into sausages and “2001 A Space Odyssey” with the donkey’s as astronaut Dave and the observatory the mysterious box.

The short is indeed strange but perfectly so.

Watch the trailer here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vG8rOAi6Q2g

You can watch this short on CRAVE.

RKS 2024 Canadian Documentary Rating 91/100.

RKS Poetry Anthology: “A Poem Inspired by President Donald J. Trump and COVID”

A Poem Inspired by President Donald J. Trump and COVID

It all commenced with the Trumpster’s Kung Flu

Many so hoping out of the White House he flew

But such a jolly fun-loving man he was possessing a memorable sense of humour

(or was it ethnic hatred?)

And I was with him playing golf the other day honestly maintaining my scorecard with true shots

Pardon me he was manipulating his card lots!

We holed out on the 18th and went to the 19th for a cold drink

Him chattering how the Democrats stink

And he showed me a list for naming mutated viruses

For the United Kingdom the “Brit Bug”

For Canada the “Canuck Muck”

For India the “Curry Cold”

For Vietnam the “Saigon Slammer”

For Australia the “Melbourne Hammer”

For Singapore the “Pulmonary Wallbanger”

I replied “Keep this hatred nonsense at bay or you’ll end up in the slammer”

What a man of nasty manner

Then I decided give the man some of what he dished out and called the latest virus the “Kansas Killer”

Well he became so angry and red in a temper tantrum he dropped dead

Was it something I said?

Or perhaps it was all the Kentucky Fried Chicken he downed on Air Force One

That made him completely done?

Robert K. Stephen

RKS Poetry Anthology: “Good Shot”

Good shot

Writhing in misery

A

Niagara Falls of pumping blood

A companion to the dead leaves

Supplanting cellophaned beef

For 3.2 families

The busy executives of death

Blind to forces of nature

Place heads on top of cars

And parade homewards to continue the same

On Monday morning

Robert K. Stephen