As I write, the rain is falling with increasing seriousness and the day is as grey as a mouse’s back. Folk are struggling to remain cheerful and keep the lamp of hope alive. November is the month without dawn or dusk, with ever-lengthening nights and drooping spirits; a time both of reflection and new directions; of taking stock and rolling up one’s sleeves. And tomorrow is Thanksgiving in the United States. Kemo Sabe, inspired by long-distant memories of snow-bound Thanksgivings in Michigan, has written this little verse as a reassurance for me. The sentiment sprung forth from her as I nestled against her on the sofa. It is as if Uncle Jonny were with us again and had found the words. I blush to print them here but they fit the spirit of Thanksgiving so well. So, to all our American friends, have a lovely restful time, and to everyone, count those blessings! Personally, I can hardly conceive the changes about to take place in our own little household, though I shall try to rise to the challenge as every Dickens Dog has done for decades before me.
Thank you Mr Pip
I’m glad I found a spaniel
To show me what it means
To love one’s life completely
And live it full of beans.
From first thing in the morning
When I come through the door
You greet me with your twitching
Upside down upon the floor.
Though goldens run for seaweed
And want to walk away
The spaniel trundles at my heels,
Close by is where you stay.
And as the day progresses
Your warmth is always there,
Your tail forever wagging,
Your guarding from the stair.
There’s no such thing as lonely:
If I go upstairs to see
To Hammy Jo or put away
The clothes, you come with me.
I’m glad I found a spaniel,
That together we have tried
To understand each other
And live life side by side.
Your joy is so infectious,
Your loyalty so true,
Words cannot bear the weight of what –
My Pip – I feel for you.
mr pip ponders 