Some pursue happiness, others create it. ~Author unknown
I caught a bird, a pretty thing:
White of belly, black of wing.
Of course, my mama had a fit;
Didn’t concern her, not one bit.
I snagged him as he flew through the air.
Why not, I thought? He was right there.
And Mama has taught me how to catch.
A flying object is an easy snatch!
This bird felt different from my other toys:
Lots of feathers, not much noise.
But Mama wasn’t playing with us;
She was inside, making a fuss.
She saw that bird hanging from my mouth.
The next thing I knew, the door to the south
Opened with a crash and there she stood —
Mad as a hornet and that wasn’t good.
Outside she flew; a shovel she’d brought.
Is this some kind of new game, I thought?
But no! She sped without a word
Toward my prize, my little bird.
She scooped him up and shouted “No!”
And toward the fence she decided to go.
Hoisted that shovel and tossed him away.
Oh little bird, come back and play!
Note: Mama says this poetic form is in rhyming couplets. I Monkey have no clue!
Musings by an ND Domer's Mom 
Oh, those life lessons! I suspect Monkey was surprised at several points as this unfolded. I’ve never heard of a dog snatching a birdie from the air, but once I thought about it — and remembered all those Frisbee and ball-catching dogs — it made sense.
Monkey saw a flying object and knew what to do: until his mama came flying!
Miss Linda, I Monkey thank you for understanding. My Mama made a big fuss over nothing. Why, it’s not like I was eating the bird! Well, maybe I would have, if she’d stayed inside a bit longer, hee hee!!
BRA-VO, Monkey! Well done on your first poem. So very clever you are with words. In fact, your writing skills are equal to Mama’s. LOL!
I’m amazed by how you caught that birdie as it flew through the air!?!
Love when you post! Looking forward to your next entry.
Wishing you and Mama a fantastic week! X
Mr. Ron, I Monkey appreciate your kind words. When Mama told me it was my turn to take over her blog for the day, I nearly panicked. Such responsibility, for a little Monkey! But I figured some of you would get a kick out of my escapade with the bird.
And yes, I’m already working on my next post. I promise you’ll enjoy it! Hugs and licks from me (and hugs from Mama!) xx
How wonderful!!
I Monkey assume you mean “wonderful” that I was able to catch the flying birdie, right, Miss Cindy? Mama says you’re a bird-lover — like her — and you had to be appalled at what I did. But gee, it’s not like I hurt him or something!
Well, done with the poem, Monkey. You probably will never understand why Mama was upset with you, but thus it will always be whenever you catch a bird.
Golly, Miss Laurie. You, too?? I Monkey was only doing what Mama taught me to do — snag something as it flew through the air. It’s NOT my fault that dumb bird was so slow he couldn’t out-fly a little Monkey like me!
I see your point, Monkey. But, still…
Yeah, that’s what Mama says. Maybe she needs to buy me a few sheep so I can have something to herd — instead of trying to grab birdies, you know. Well, she probably can’t keep livestock in town. Grr!
Great poem! Who knew dogs could rhyme, lol? Now let those birdies be, Monkey…
Aw, Miss Kathy, you don’t mean that … do you?? I Monkey love to catch things. I’ve been trying to get the squirrels and rabbits who invade my yard, but thus far, I haven’t been successful. Birds? The thing was probably sick — or old — and didn’t have long for the world anyway. Right?!!
Yes, dear Monkey, NOT a toy, alas. 😦
Well, Miss Eliza, I Monkey found out pretty quickly that that birdie wasn’t a toy. It didn’t have a squeaker! In fact, it never made a peep after I got it — probably playing possum to get Mama’s sympathy. She’s a sucker for little critters.
Awwww, man! I hope he gets over this phase! Cute poem though.
“Phase”, Miss Dawn? What do you mean by that? I Monkey was having a blast being outside — no snow, and just cool enough for me to race around the yard without heavy panting. “Phase,” huh! I Monkey intend to catch all the dumb old slow birds that get in my yard. Mama says my predecessor never caught a bird — well, I guess I’ll have to show her how it’s done — whee!!
Any bird that dumb deserves to be caught, Monkey.
At last! Somebody who understands me, Mr. John — thank you! I Monkey had the same thought — dumb, slow bird should’ve stayed in its nest rather than venturing about! He’s lucky I didn’t eat him.
You wouldn’t like the taste anyway. Too many feathers.
First caught bird, first poem ~ you possess many talents, Monkey. Your mom will certainly be helping you to learn the difference between flying toys and flying birds!
She’s trying, Miss Barbara, but I Monkey am holding fast. If it moves, I’m chasing it; if it flies, same thing! What is it they say? Strike while the iron’s hot!
Oh, Monkey! I really shouldn’t laugh but I did! Humans are so illogical, aren’t they? You’d think Mama would be proud of how well you’ve learned to catch flying objects, but no – they always find something to complain about. Still, since Mama controls the doggie treats, probably best to go along with her and stick to catching toys in future… 😂
PS Great poem! 😂
Gee, thanks, Miss FF. I Monkey just might be blushing through my furry face!
Aw, Miss FF, don’t take Mama’s side! Dumb old slow bird probably wasn’t long for the world anyway. Why I Monkey have seen this stray cat lurking around, and if I hadn’t caught Mr. Birdie, the cat probably would’ve, don’t you think?!
You are a dog of many talents, Monkey! Not only can you catch just about anything, you also write very good poetry. Now as to the subject, here’s a little secret: humans usually don’t like it when you catch real, living things. So you need to do it on the sly…..
“On the sly.” Hmm, I Monkey never thought of that, Miss Ann. I was sort of proud of the accomplishment, actually! But maybe that’s the answer … and certainly NOT bringing the live thing to Mama!
No, don’t bring it to her. But here’s another idea: if it’s still alive, maybe just let it go? You already got the fun of catching it, so it it’s not injured, the nice thing to do is to open you mouth and let it fly (or run) off. Just a thought! And yes, you’re still a good dog!
Hmm, maybe that’s what Mama meant when she told me to “Drop It”? I haven’t learned that lesson yet (preferring, of course, to keep what I snag!), but thanks for saying I’m still a good dog. ‘Cos I am!!
So lyrical! Well done!
Glad you liked it, Miss Audrey!