Voices – Dog Park

There were times at the house
all of us, Sarah, Rufus, Milo,
and it would just be so playful
in the back yard.
Hey – stop it. Stop it.
They just love those plants back there.
We could hear them there,
digging holes beneath the tree.
She doesn’t really like the tennis ball anymore.
She’s a real cutey. Come on, Honey.
Come on, time to go home. Come!
Stay. Sit, sit, stay.
It was such a great time hanging out.
Nope! Sit, stay. Good dog.
We’ll see you guys next time,
I’ll tell you about the time she found a truffle.


Everything is central to the thought,
like attention to the subconscious.
It could always look great in time.

No! No, come here, let me show you something.
We rescued you, kiss my hand.

Look at his legs, do you see that?
Definition. He’s always on his feet,
his hind legs, standing at attention,
always looking for the greater attraction.

Charlie the Dog


Shugg was about the size of a baby guinnee pig when Zucker first met her, but even then she explored the floor with such excitement. She was bought for a pretty penny by Adam and Michelle, and they raised her in their house, shared with tenants (like Zucker) for the first year of her life.

Shugg never really saw much of the tenants until she grew strong enough to climb the stairs in the backyard that led to the back porch upstairs. There, Shugg met Zucker, sprawled lazily on a chaise lounge recliner, surrounded by empty flowerpots and trash bags destined for the dumpster.

“Hey Dog,” Zucker was deeply involved in his own world; absorbing the sun, listening to birds over music in his headphones with a notebook in hand.

At 7 inches off the ground, Shugg was a terrier something… She was bred for urban living. From infancy to maturity, Shugg will stay incomparably close to the ground.

Zucker felt her vibrations up the stairs before her light grunts and wet nose explored his fingertips and thigh. She still had that energy – that curiosity about the world that drives her wild. Like a blank canvas looking for new colors and experiences, so too little Shugg, looking aimlessly in each flowerpot for new smells and new friends.

Shugg had a pretty sheltered upbringing, not really leaving the house or the backyard much, except when Adam and Michelle took her to the vet or perhaps on a weekend trip. No, the most unusual place for Shugg in that house was the back porch upstairs. There, she met the cats…

The Watch and the Dog

For some odd reason, Zucker placed his grandfather’s inherited Waltham wristwatch on the bookshelf to the left of his dresser where he usually puts it at night. The bookcase top, nearly three feet from the ground, was a shrine of sorts where the bears and the monkey rested, along with his father’s Mason Pearson comb, and an old jar, once full of the best honey in the world.

The Bookshelf Bunch

Also there was a little wooden carving of a dog that Zucker made for his grandfather, the same grandfather, when he was thirteen. It rests now, laminated in dark overtones and lightly caked in dust and time. That little carving alone holds a wealth of stories from its previous life with Zucker’s grandfather. There was a strange air in the room. Even as Zucker turned off the lights and went to bed, the watch and the dog connected in ways beyond compare.