the strip of steel water skirts white fields
snow shushes the land, recent rabbits leave signs
I'm the first arrival this morning - me, sans dog
my little Maltese, rather refined
twelve-and-a-half in our years
would be overwhelmed
by this adventure

but on my own I've been accepted
into this fold of two and four-legged regulars
so I meditate in the still crisp dawn
'til the troops arrive
before long it begins
rush of four limbs, tails and noses
times six or more, ritual reunion
yaps growls snaps
along the river's shore each weekday morning
here come one or two to start

others fall in minutes later
people and breeds variable
depending on day's schedules

sometimes new members and guests from out of town
as far as east or west coasts, visiting Ottawa
but we've a core team
males and females
Cadbury, the caramel Standard French Poodle, and bro, Topper
same teddy bear type, with puppy cuts not fancy bows and fuss
Topper's black with frequent snow powder dusting the nose
these are Hannah's and Paul's (dramatic in his Bronte Yorkshire Moors long coat)
like some of us, they reminisce our stretch of Ottawa from its cottage and greenspace days
and help petition to keep the concrete jungle out

There's Reto, Kim's brindle gal,
Duke, Ann's young German Shepherd
the resilient black lab of Tanis and Ian
Java, breaking through the haze to acceptance
the tiniest being the Jack Russell-terrier type, Sniffs, (who true to his name,
never skips a fresh excuse to stop and smell each inch of way)
he's Jean's white and brown terrier, who comes with benefit of lambswool jacket now
then fluffy Tio, the white empress Husky
who camouflages now
and sleeps it all off
in the foyer of her master's gift/lottery shop
throughout the afternoons

and the newly-arrived to us, blonde pup lab
from Lanark, Daisy (Steve and Wendy's)
who showed her brave colours fast to not be bullied
but went AWOL the other day, for a social call to the schnauzer, Wizard

who'll be the first canine to appear through twigs
to check me out? nudge my greeting

one by one or in pairs they surface from all
corners, for the free helter-skelter havoc
call of the wild

then a coax or whistle from Will
bringing Tio and Lobo
a German Shepherd smaller than Duke

Ann and Kim are superior whistlers too
as playgroup reunites across the snowy wood nooks
tag for sticks and doggie snow angels
and off and on, the initiation of approaching
interloper dogs
the trials of the pecking order
bared teeth and snarls of wolfdom
til submission's shown
no dignity for dogs
but an honest hierarchy

I grimace as they work it out
sweat for the newcomer
but their owners and my friends more used to this
assure me after immersion
hound harmony will reign

biscuit break's the ultimate social feat
when we welcome any new human counterparts
and catch up with our own news
maybe fantasize match-ups for our singles with the
latest, cutest dog-owners we meet

I tell them of my buddy Chris' pastime
feeding squirrels at the lake
we all compare wildlife stories
of skunk, racoon and ground hog sightings in the 'hood
our friendships in some cases has endured
since we introduced our now-grown kids
we met through struggles over one favourite green bike at playgroup

now the kids may have moved out of their old circles
but we mothers still hang on
along our march in single file or pairs
past poison ivy signs on trees
sumac decorated trails
and hush of parkway ever close

I take my workout uphill and down
my buoyant fix of friendship too
in our city centre pseudo forest

(when I was a girl, this was a purer ponded winding woodland)
I've learned the caution for the bramble bushes near the eyes

the long branches whipped against our legs
in mouths of hyper hyena-like dogs
at recess running us off our feet
ring-a-rosy round my ankles after one another in loops
if we're not listening and on our toes
we can soon be off our feet
they've crashed me off balance
more than once

our 'Tiny Kim' stays up better
Ann's wearying when in her moonwalk pants
but proud of insulated oven mitts for warmth
the pets chase one another round us and the brush
often we'd swear we were drunk
our footing a sobriety test over the stumps
til laughing I land often on my rump
the beasts not even checking how I fare
but they will give me nose kisses when not busy
then turn non-chalant if I get in their track of hide and seek

the other humans chuckle
'there she goes again
where's her yogic balance now?'

Daisy's added a new twist to the challenge for me
by charging between my legs, so now I really have to keep them close together

at first I had to work to keep up
'are you coming, Maureen?' echoing over the field

after snack time
Cadbury yelps for more pats from me
while boasting an icy beard

chien shenanigans and rolls and nose digs in the white
it's Duke who most hates to head for home
he's still a pup
so he makes protest by making sport chewing Jean's or my jacket pocket
or mouthing our mittens
as Ann scolds and cajoles him

while Reto and Tio play tug of war
for the blue leash
their way to drag on the get-together
but the love-in ends again and they disappear from us to their homes
til we all go crazy - rosy - silly - happy healthy
again tomorrow at dawn.

My Maltese Angel, the senior
who hates salt and ice chips in her footpads
wait-watching for me from the window
over the street from home
shoulder to shouder with Penny Lane, her feline sidekick
eager for the promise of scents of the wild on my clothes
and my inevitable
fresh tales out of school

01/22/2001

Author's Note: prose poem. About a year or more later, the NCC (National Capital Commission) of our region began strict enforcement of no-off leashing of dogs in this and most of Ottawa's green spaces, leaving Bruce Pitt and maybe one other for this. So we don't go down to the river with the dogs now near here.

Posted on 12/22/2003
Copyright © 2024 Maureen Glaude