I hope you all had a great weekend! Hello Monday!What a surprise for this morning to find my poem on Gobblers by Masticadores! Thank you so much to Manuela Timofte for sharing my writing. It’s an honor to be featured on her beautiful site among many talented writers. I hope you pay her a visit…
Lost Their Way
If hope was a color, mine would be blue, struggling like a bird with a broken wing tears fill weary eyes that blur they fall with an unforgiving sting My heart imitates emotional skies unseen roadblocks disguise a silver lining Wishing is what I do well, miles between, my hell, mindset craves refining…
You can read the full poem by clicking on the link below…
Click on my daughter’s image to order your copy! 🧡
Lauren Scott Author – King Copper: Our dog’s life in poetry Author – Cora’s Quest (a children’s book) Author – Ever So Gently: A Collection of Poetry Author – More than Coffee: Memories of Verse and Prose Author – Finding a Balance: A Collection of Poetry Author – New Day, New Dreams: A Collection of Poetry Co-Author – Tranquility: An Anthology of Haiku Co-Author – Petals of Haiku: An Anthology Co-Author – This Is How We Grow Co-Author – Poetry Treasures 2: Relationships Bi-Monthly Contributor on Gobblers by Masticadores Spillwords Author of the Month May 2023 Spillwords Publication of the Month October 2024 Spillwords Publication of the Month June 2025
Moods that can’t seem to find the light through the darkest shadows can be lifted with blooms of bright yellow like a smile sprinkling cheer into a day washed out in beige.
This week has been tough. Forward is the only direction, while staying hopeful and strong, persevering, and focusing on the good, the sweetness. So, even though I shared this poem last November, I thought it would be apropos for a second go around. If you’ve read it before, I hope you don’t mind a repeat.
Dear Family and Friends, this story is a bit long, so if you don’t have time to read it, I understand. But if you do, I hope you can appreciate Rusty’s dilemma and recognize the message conveyed. I won’t give away the ending. 🙂 Also, I’ve included an audio version for those of you who would rather listen.
Rusty can’t help but whine and dance around in circles! He knows what’s coming when Mom puts her ball cap on. Today is a crisp, March spring morning when she attaches the blue plaid leash to his matching blue collar. The sky is bright and clear, perfect for a walk around the neighborhood. When he sings (he likes to call it that) and dances, he can tell by the tone of her voice that sometimes she is happy. But there are times when she sounds kind of mad. Maybe he should try calming down. But seriously, what chocolate lab doesn’t get excited for a walk?
She opens the blue front door, and Rusty follows her outside. He lifts his leg on every bush he spots, his nose clueing him into enticing smells. Mom walks at just the right pace while he trots beside her. Occasionally, she jogs, and he picks up the pace, jogging, too. He thinks this is so much fun. The flapping of his long soft ears makes him happy.
Rusty is minding his own business when Sam, the gray squirrel, runs in the street right in front of him! Whenever he sees Sam, he barks up a storm that echoes and bounces from house to house! Sam skitters across the street then skitters back to where he came from, all the while snickering to irritate Rusty. And boy is Rusty irritated!
“Woof! Woof! Woof!” Rusty voices his annoyance and pulls on his leash. All he wants is a chance to catch Sam! And then he thinks…
What would I do if I caught Sam? I mean, I don’t want to hurt him. Yes, he annoys me, but I just want to play!
But once again, Sam gets away! He scurries up the nearest maple tree with the speed and confidence of a black bear, snickering all the way to the top! Sam is an expert at snickering!
How dare him!
“Oh, Rusty, you’ll never catch a squirrel, but it’s always good to try,” Mom says while she pats Rusty on his soft head.
Rusty forgets about Sam as he and his mom turn the corner, and that’s when he sees Tuck, the yellow Labrador, standing in his front yard. What puzzles Rusty is that every time he tries to say hello, Tuck turns the other way. He doesn’t like Rusty and Rusty doesn’t know why. Then he remembers Mom telling him that it’s always good to try. So, he tries again to say hello.
Tuck stands tall at the edge of his yard, close enough to offer a friendly sniff to Rusty. But when Rusty walks up to him, Tuck turns his big head and body around, heading for his mom who stands by the front door. Rusty’s ears fall back tightly against his head and his heart aches. This isn’t the first time he’s been taunted by Sam and ignored by Tuck. With his heavy and hopeless heart, he and his mom leave Tuck’s house and continue walking up the street that begins to incline. Lucy, the beautiful snow-white husky, lives at the top of the hill. Rusty’s had a crush on her for what seems like forever, but she doesn’t pay any attention to him either.
Lucy stands by the white fence that borders her yard, and sure enough, when she spots Rusty trotting up the hill, she runs to the porch and lies down on her bed so he can’t get close to her. She even holds an intimidating stare. Rusty notices this which causes his heart to ache more and his ears to fall back for a second time. He doesn’t know if his heart will ever warm up again. At this very moment, it feels as cold as his big brown nose. He and his mom walk past her house, making a U-turn to head back down the hill to their home.
I love my humans, Mom, Dad, and my sister and brother. But it’s lonely not having friends, and I wish I knew why they didn’t like me. If I had to, I would change my ways. I’m friendly. I don’t bark a lot, except at squirrels, sorry Sam! I don’t sniff where I’m not welcomed. Is it because my coat is the color of copper, and not a true chocolate, blonde, yellow, or shiny black? But why would others not want to be my friend just because of the color of my coat?
While Rusty ponders the cause of his friendlessness, unbeknownst to him, Sam and Tuck meet up with Lucy just outside her white fence.
“I don’t know about you boys, but I’m tired of being mean to Rusty. And just for the record, I find him kind of cute,” Lucy admitted.
“Oh, Lucy, don’t go letting your heart soften up now. Rusty’s different! We all know that, and different doesn’t bode well with our tight group!” Sam chimes in with conviction of an elephant.
“You know, Sam, I think Lucy makes a good point. Just because Rusty looks different doesn’t mean we can’t include him. I guess my eight-year-old heart is beginning to soften, too,” Tuck says as he observes Sam’s fluffy tail standing upright like a surfboard in the sand, his little whiskers moving at lightning speed.
It seems odd that a squirrel weighing no more than a pound can gain control over two dogs the size of Shetland ponies. But Sam’s personality is bigger than him and as powerful as a lion’s. Lucy and Tuck automatically followed Sam in every adventure they went on, but not anymore. Their hearts and souls are beginning to see the kinder sides. It’s been one whole month and Lucy can’t bear the pure sadness in Rusty’s soulful, amber eyes. And the more Tuck thinks on this issue, the more he considers Rusty the brother he never had. It would be fun to have another buddy to hang around with now and then.
“Sam, what if you or Lucy or I looked different that didn’t align with what Rusty thought was normal? How would you feel if he ignored you when he saw you on the street? Or even worse, what if he growled at you, scaring you out of your wits?”
“Hey, you’re sounding a bit philosophical, old man!” Sam replies.
“Who are you calling old man, Sam? I’m only 8!” Tuck retorts.
Lucy can’t stand this banter any longer, and contrary to what some believe, girls know best!
“Okay, boys, enough is enough! This neighborhood holds plenty of room for all of us, and that includes Rusty! I, for one, would feel devastated to be ignored like he has been because of our unkind behavior. I feel so ashamed, so my only hope is that he can forgive!” Lucy feels the lifting of a huge burden from her heart. Her body even feels lighter as though she can frolic on clouds, and her spirit as bright as the shining sun.
Lucy pokes the latch on the gate with her cold nose, then once it becomes unlatched, with a paw she pushes it open. She walks through and onto the street when Sam scurries up beside her, giving her a surrendering smile. After thinking this situation over and pondering Tuck and Lucy’s words, he agrees with their wisdom. Tuck sidles up beside Lucy on the opposite side, and together, the trio heads downhill to Rusty’s house.
The single-story ranch style home looks quiet from the street. But the trio hopes to find Rusty in the backyard, lying in the sun like he loves to do. Then it will be easy for them to get his attention.
After Rusty and his mom return home from their walk, he is ready for a nap. Exhaustion has taken over his body, not only from the walk and jog, but from the sadness weighing heavy on his heart. In the backyard, a patch of grass in the sunshine beckons him, so he lies down on his side, legs stretched out, and begins to soak up the sun’s warmth. It takes a lot of effort for him to ignore the gloomy thoughts, so he tries to dream of chasing squirrels. But then he hears a loud commotion in the front of the house!
Lucy, Sam, and Tuck yell in one giant burst of sound to rouse Rusty!
“Rusty! You annoying lab!”
“Hi, Rusty, come on out!”
“Hey, Buddy, we need to talk to you!”
Rusty slowly stands; his twelve-year-old legs don’t hurry anymore. Then to his surprise, he sees Lucy, Tuck, and Sam, yes even Sam, jumping up and down at the see-through gate. They speak simultaneously, hard to understand every word. But the word that stands out is FRIEND. And judging by their smiling jowls, and Sam’s happy, fluffy tail swinging from side to side, Rusty understands completely!
His mom hears the joyful barking, too, so she steps outside, and when she notices the trio giving kisses to Rusty through the gate, the sight warms her heart. Her senior pup has been sad for too long now. She opens the gate and joy flows through the air as the foursome hug and kiss in their own canine and squirrelly ways.
“We’re so sorry we were mean to you, Rusty. We never should’ve judged you because of your coat color. I actually think you’re quite handsome. So will you forgive us?” Lucy steps back a few inches, certain that she is blushing after baring her soul.
“Oh, will I ever!” Rusty cheerfully answers. “And Lucy, I actually think you’re beautiful!”
And so, the three canines and the one fuzzy gray squirrel trot and scamper down the street on this spring day – the best ever for Rusty! His heart feels happy again, and he realizes that Sam, Lucy, and Tuck accept him for who he is – they don’t expect him to change. This is the day he not only gains friends, but the day he becomes one.
Trouble – An Acrostic poem inspired by Colleen’s post , but mine turned into a double acrostic with a more somber twist. It may even be more of a story than a poem. When I saw the word ‘trouble’ my father-in-law came to mind…
Thriving in life’s sunrises and sunsets Reveling in life, travel, staying active, Over the last century he’s lived a fulfilled life, Unaffected by pessimism, his sanguinity Bestows a light on all who walk in his circle. Legendary in his knowledge and keen memory, Enervated and full of pain is his body now.
Taking each day as it comes, persistent agony Rarely breaks from its stopover, but complaints Outstandingly never fall from his lips. It is Unusual for the query to escape, but he Breathes gently before asking when the distress will Liquidate his bones and muscles, when it will all finally End.
Maybe you can relate? Perhaps you’re in the same situation with a loved one?
On a lighter note,if you find yourself at a loss for words, desperately needing poetry writing inspiration, visit Colleen.
We are graced with their presence, beauty colors our universe like an endless ceiling of bright blue sky. Then one morning we wake with heavy hearts, realizing they have gone, as though sneaking out in the middle of the night without a word, their existence seemingly nonexistent. Iron-gray clouds move through that lovely cloudless sky like a brush stroke of lingering gloom. We suspect the sun has an attitude, refusing to rise. And each new day magnifies the question: Did words accidentally slip from our tongue landing like poison? Then we reflect to a deeper layer, flipping a switch because maybe it’s not us. Maybe it’s them. A surmising… to soothe the bruises on our hearts.
It was close to 7:30 am when she walked into his room, sitting down in front of him. She looked into his eyes with a combination of love and resolution, as if to say, “Don’t you know, too?” He looked at his adorable black lab and shook his head, thinking, this is a little odd. But the obligation of school called, so he patted her soft head, saying, “Love you, Girl, see you later!” And he finished tying his shoes before walking out the door, heading for the high school.
The rest of us also left for the day’s routine: work and school. Just the ordinary; it was to be an ordinary kind of day. She was curled up and content on her soft bed in the backyard where she liked to keep an eye on any trespassing critters.
But shortly after we all left, she cried out. Our good neighbor next door heard her high-pitched cries, so he called us on our cell phones, then he stayed with her. One significant glitch was that all our cell phones were turned off, which had never happened before, and which proved to be the conundrum on this tearful day. So, over an hour passed before I even listened to the urgent message; during this time, our neighbor waited patiently with Lucky Girl breathing her last breaths. The guilt from this unintentional blunder stayed with us for a very long time; we felt sick inside imagining that she was lying there waiting for one of us to come home to tell her that everything was going to be okay.
He got down to her level, parking himself on the cool November concrete, her head resting on his leg. He was not a dog person, but he was a dog person on this day, petting her with compassion. It was ironic that she had had an aversion to him for some unknown reason. But that morning, any dislike she had for this man faded into the uncertainty of what was happening.
I pulled into the driveway, eyes wet and puffy from the phone message, and this was only the beginning. Walking through the side gate, I spotted our neighbor sitting on the walkway, his back up against the house, legs stretched out with Lucky Girl lying beside him. She was barely there, though – her eyes revealing acceptance and sadness. I think she knew more than we did at that moment.
He helped me lift her, gently laying her in the back of the car so she could lie on her side with plenty of room. As much as I wanted her in the front seat where I could see her, I knew she wouldn’t be comfortable. It wasn’t until I pulled out of the driveway that I realized the inevitable was drawing closer. She was eleven years old, but until today, she still seemed so full of life.
With tearful eyes, I drove, feeling grateful the freeway wasn’t a necessary route. Half-way to the vet, I knew. My heart felt the crossing. I pulled over to the side, got out of the car, and walked to the back, lifting the car door. I saw that my Lucky Girl had crossed over the Rainbow Bridge. I sobbed again, knowing more tears would follow.
I kissed her on her nose then managed to get back into the driver’s seat, continuing for another ten minutes to the vet. When I arrived, frantically entering the building, I shared my devastating news with the girl at the counter who acted amazingly aloof for my untamed emotions. But two vet techs wearing light blue medical jackets carried Lucky Girl from the car into a private room. I asked for a few moments alone with my girl. There she was lying on the silver table, where I’m sure many furry family members have done the same. I bent over, laying my head on her soft black fur, gently petting her, and whispering on behalf of her family, “We love you, Lucky Girl.” More tears slid down my face as I was unable to comprehend that this was it…
No more walks together, no more cuddles on the bed, no more tossing of the ball, watching her chase that silly round toy with the excitement of a toddler. No more playing tug-o-war with her favorite rope toy, entertained by her incredible strength and admirable effort. No more watching TV with her lying at our feet as though she’s enjoying the show as much as we are.
When we were all home later that day – the news weighing heavy on our hearts and minds – we huddled in a strong embrace, emotions running wild. This unforgettable chapter was part of life, part of owning a pet, allowing their unconditional love to wrap around our hearts. But this chapter was also about learning how to say good-bye.
The strange thing was Lucky Girl had never indicated that something was off kilter…except, perhaps, when she walked into his room that morning. She looked at him with knowledge we couldn’t possibly have been privy to. Even though her behavior was unusual, she was quiet, not crying or whining, so it didn’t propel us into worrying.
Hindsight is twenty-twenty. If we only would have known. It just happened so fast.
Remembering Lucky Girl who received her angel wings on November 11, 2011. ❤️
Baydreamer Writes ~ Lauren Scott, Author 