Today my thoughts are focused on Thor, my Great Pyrenees farm dog, who every day seems to become more of an independent spirit. Thor, being only eight-months-old, is still a puppy at heart, but his large size makes him a formidable nuisance. I know that if I can maintain and keep him out of mischief for just a few more months, he will develop into just the sort of dog that is needed to guard our little farm and ward off predators. But then there are days, like today, when Thor appears to be bound and determined to live life according to his natural instincts - and human efforts to corral his high-spirited nature be damned!
Irene Rutherford Mcleod was a British poet, dramatist, novelist, and writer of children's novels in the early twentieth century. She was also the mother-in-law of a literary icon, Christopher Robin Milne. Mcleod's poem, "Lone Dog," is one of her better known efforts. It was eventually made into a song.
Today's retelling is dedicated to Thor, a free spirit.
by Irene Rutherford Mcleod
I'm a lean dog, a keen dog, a wild dog, and lone;
I'm a rough dog, a tough dog, hunting on my own;
I'm a bad dog, a mad dog, teasing silly sheep;
I love to sit and bay at the moon, to keep fat souls from sleep.
I'll never be a lap dog, licking dirty feet,
A sleek dog, a meek dog, cringing for my meat,
Not for me the fireside, the well-filled plate,
But shut the door, and sharp the stone, and cuff, and kick, and hate.
Not for me the other dogs, running by my side,
Some have run a short while, but none of them would bide.
O mine is still the lone trail, the hard trail, the best,
Wide wind, and wild stars, and hunger of the quest!