Stanley

pronged

~ jim clayton ~ Leave a comment

I could see a guy with a border terrier
on the path that leads to the woods
as walkers go they looked superior
an ad from a site for survival goods

the dog had a swagger that made me doubt him
the man wore a khaki cap
like they both went in for venture scouting
knotting badges, stuff like that

the two of them strode ahead to Valhalla
in fluorescent harness & Gore Tex boots
and discretion being the better part of valour
me n’Stan took a different route

I quickly realised my mistake
the path led off into thickets
Stan trailed sulkily back in my wake
every dog has its limits

I felt like a prince in a fairy tale
a brave and dauntless searcher
with shorts instead of a suit of mail
and instead of a horse a lurcher

we fell out onto open ground
an unexpected area
and there were the two of them up on a mound
monument to man and terrier

we took the wrong turn I said and laughed
feeling a little rattled
ah yes he said the fork in the path
you took the prong less travelled

international dog day

~ jim clayton ~ Leave a comment

wave your paws in the air
like you don’t care
from the sofa to the park
to the top of the stairs
come stop and talk to us
clip on a lead and walk with us
or get down on the carpet
I’m ready to play jes’ start it
do hide the octopus, man, I heart it
octopus! octopus!
he’s one leg down get the doctopus
it ain’t no shock to us
all that tossin’ and shakin’
there ain’t no mistakin’
the daily damage he’s takin’
what I’m sayin’
is that sweet, SWEET lil’ octopus
he totally rattles & rocks with us
he makes my life complete
from his googly eyes to his seven cute feet
his squeak so sweet
when I chews him he speaks
ain’t no toy can compete
I give him my paw
he’s an honorary claw
for DAMN sure
so c’mon
we’re done
go get me a treat
toss a biscuit in the basket
or some cheese to eat
it’s international dog day
man
and so far, anyway
if you gave me a damn survey
you wouldn’t see too many stars, let’s say

amazing grazer

~ jim clayton ~ 5 Comments

I could just see
Stanley
off in the distance
tugging on grass
with the persistence
of a hungry cow or calf

why, I don’t know
maybe he just chose
to get some roughage
to stimulate retches
(or fancied a rummage
in the grasses and sedges)

he ignored my whistle
so I thought this’ll
definitely need
a different tack
so took out the lead
and walked straight back

I’m not embellishing
when I say he was relishing
every last blade
in that clump
like he was somewhat afraid
he wouldn’t eat in a month

why he does this I don’t know
so I Googled it when I got home
it could be PICA
which sounds close enough
it’s when you get hyper
and eat weird stuff

I clipped the lead on snappily
but Stanley came happily
like a sated alligator
or an unrepentant diner
led off by the waiter
for something really minor

the trouble with grass is
when the thing passes
and you feel insane
dismay without measure
birthing a skein
like a vet with a heifer

from The Song of Stan, stanticle 7

~ jim clayton ~ Leave a comment

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[1] How beautiful are thy paws with claws, O prince’s lurcher! The joints of thy thighs are supersized, the work of the hands of a prize-winning special effects artist.
[2] Thy belly is protuberant as a goblin’s, which wanteth not for scratching; thy underbits are like an heap of treats set about with squeakers
[3] Thy breath is like a road to nowhere
[4] Thy neck is as a worn beach towel derisory; thine eyes strictly wishful and advisory; thy nose has the power of Lucifer, and ever looketh toward dinner
[5] Thine head upon thee is like a camel, and the hair of thine head like a flannel; nothing much is held in the galleries of thine brain, as we oft are driven sorrowfully to explain
[6] Howl fair and howl unpleasant dost thou, O lord, for the love of God make it stop
[7] This thy stature is like to a rickety clothes horse, and thy vapours to clusters of apes
[8] I said, I will go over the park with thee, I will take hold of the lead thereof: now also from my pockets extract numberless treats, and you shalt take thy fill, and I shalt feed them to thee, bravely, like pine logs through a sawmill
[9] And the roof of thy mouth liketh to whine for thy beloved spot on the sofa, that goeth oft to thy rival Lola, causing the lips of he who hast been too slow again to speak, in fulsome irritation
[10] I am my beloved’s, and his desire is toward me (or any that doth have access to cheese)
[11] Come, my beloved! Let us go forth into the field; let us dodge the horses
[12] Let us get up early to the backyard; let us see if the vine flourish, whether the tender grape appear, and the pomegranates bud forth; failing that, we’ll just go for a walk
[13] Man dogs do give a smell, so our place has all manner of boujee diffusers, new and dried out, which we have laid out for thee. So do your worst, O my beloved.

the paw supremacy

~ jim clayton ~ Leave a comment

Stanley
should live in Langley
Virginia
in the vicinity of
the CIA HQ
because between me and you
he’s the kinda dog who
they should have on their payroll
because he can play roles
for instance
if you’re insistent
he move from the sofa this instant
he’ll pretend he’s a kind of unwieldy cushion
that no amount of pushing
will budge
then he’ll stare at you hard as a high court judge
till you shrug
and give up
and sit down grumpily on the rug
to watch TV
which is obviously where HE should be
manipulative to the nth degree
but great spy potential if you ask me

Stanley! The Musical

~ jim clayton ~ Leave a comment

Stanley! The Musical
mostly acoustical
upbeat, therapeutical
sponsored by a pet pharmaceutical

I wasn’t sure about the exclamation mark
I actually wanted a bark
something to grab your attention
and give you the impression
you were in for a treat
all from a dot and a line, which is neat

But I hesitated
it felt premeditated
the title jarred
I think I’m guilty of trying too hard

it’s like when someone says ‘aww – isn’t my dog the CUTEST?’
and you can’t help instinctively disputing this
because it’s a bold assertion
and you hate coercion
no iffs, no butts
especially when it comes to mutts

barkin’ jack

~ jim clayton ~ Leave a comment

Sometimes Stanley’s Barkin’ Jack
famous bushranger from the Australian outback
transported to New South Wales in 1846
for unlawfully pawing six tripe sticks
escapes to the bush, leads a pack
of feral lurchers and mutts like that
steals from the rich, harries the traps
gets into legendary scrapes and scraps
till the final, furious, canine shootout
his water low, his last chew chewed out
barks through the window of the settler’s cottage
reckoning five traps to the best of his knowledge
(there’s actually fifty, so Barkin’ blunders;
he was never particularly good with numbers)
he rummages inside the recycling bins
fashions some armour from baked bean tins
bounds outside, pistols flaming
as the bullets from the traps come raining
the rest I’m afraid is ancient history
– but why he’s haunting Stanley’s a bit of a mystery

stanley standing

~ jim clayton ~ Leave a comment

sometimes Stanley just stands
let me expand…

Steve the carpet fitter
stopped by to measure
everywhere the carpet was going
so there was a lot of toing and froing
and expertly showing
what would go where
what we had to prepare
Steve running round with a measuring tape
because everything was old and an odd kinda shape
but honestly Steve was great
worked at an impressive rate
then sat down in the kitchen
to do the addition
plus commission
costing out the whole proposition

Stanley slowly padded over there
and stood right up against Steve’s kitchen chair
his wild and crazy hair
sticking out everywhere
(Stan’s hair, not Steve’s
Steve was pretty much bald I believe)
his right eye a fright
these days almost completely white
so what with the hair and the white eye combi
looking like a lurcher zombie

hello fella! said Steve
Stan neutrally received
the strokes and fuss
like a wonky dog who’d been stuffed by us
and put on castors to wheel out to guests
who were secretly spooked but acted impressed

I’m the dog whisperer – with a twist
more like the dog hypnotist
he said
giving Stan one last ruffle of the head
then straight away turned back to his quote
because he was obviously a focused kinda bloke

and that’s it
sometimes Stan just stands and won’t quit
not until he’s tempted away
if he hears you opening a delicious tray
let’s say
of Cesar Country Stew
or he’s whistled up onto the sofa by you
or we find & squeak his favourite octopus
when his sudden animation is always a shock to us