Sweet Cady the lab,
Greeley's gentle companion.
Never terrible.
To which I say, with apologies to Maya Angelou:
A Rock, A River,
A Tree. All since departed,
Eaten by Cady.
Really, though, I should be smarter than to get in a haiku battle with a semi-retired woman who types fast and can quickly convert the hours she spends playing Freecell and solitaire on the computer into hours spent counting syllables.
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While you are still number one on google for beagle haiku, you're not registering at all on bing. (Arsen comes in at number four I believe) However, I did discover a Facebook group called beagle love. Think of all the possible beagle haiku readers you're missing!!
ReplyDeleteAnd, while the Gettysburg Family blog is the #1 result for "Gettysburg Mom" on Google, there's nary a hit for it on Bing.
ReplyDeleteIs is a coincidence that Arsen's La Marotte post (published through Wordpress) appears on Bing, while your blog and my blog (published on Blogger, which is owned by Google) is totally shut out of Bing? Methinks not.
Given Microsoft's long, long record of corporate shenanigans and trickery in their quest for yet more market share, I suspect they've decided to ignore those of us whose blog appears on their search-engine rival's site.
My poor confused John
ReplyDeleteWill discover the truth as
Sweet Cady's keeper.
Good God, that one sounds like one of those frightening oracle-like fortunes dispensed in a spooky episode of "The Twilight Zone."
ReplyDeleteI think dead Cochon d'Inde haiku, even in French, might be a tad too morbid for anyone -except maybe a few Gothics - looking for pet poetry, so I'll abstain from taking this domestic haiku battle international.
ReplyDeleteIn Celebration of Yesterday's Walk
ReplyDeleteCanal and River.
Another dog to play with.
Cady's in heaven.
I'm not goth, but I have to admit to a certain perverse interest in dead guinea pig haiku in French. I say bring on the international element!
ReplyDeleteOh, my, how did I miss this brewing battle?
ReplyDeleteWith the cumulative poetic power here, this could get... verbose.
Carry on, poets!