THE RELUCTANT SHOW DOG

(Written to Commemorate Alfie’s Day in the Sun)


A mutt named Alfie from the pound, with lots of shaggy hair,
Joined with our household long ago when we had children there.
He learned to ‘by heel’, sit and stay
And, when the judges had their say,
He wore a purple ribbon at the Hendricks County Fair.

When it was time for Alfie to show at the State Fair,
The lazy days of summer were hung with humid air.
He spied a tall tree making shade
And for that oak a beeline made,
Forgetting all that he had learned---as if he didn’t care.

I remember Alfie when I go to the fair,
And how he chose the shadows instead of limelight’s glare;
I pause to linger in the shade
And, just like him, I would not trade
A million purple ribbons for the comfort I find there.

I’ve learned in life there’s more than laurels to make it whole and true:
I forgo fashion, forget rules, remove the pinching shoe,
With comfort I am e’er in touch,
And, when convention asks too much
A shaggy dog named Alfie reminds me what to do.


Helen Ewoldsen – 8-18-04