A book for dog lovers everywhere
“Dog Songs — Thirty-Five Dog Songs and One Essay” by Mary Oliver (The Penguin Press, 127 pages, $26.95)
Mary Oliver is one of our greatest living American poets. An Ohio native, she grew up in what was the once rural community of Maple Heights near Cleveland. Oliver published her first book, “No Voyage and Other Poems” 50 years ago. She has received the National Book Award as well as the Pulitzer Prize.
Her latest collection, “Dog Songs — Thirty-Five Dog Songs and One Essay,” celebrates the connections she has made with canine companions throughout the years. The average life span of most dogs doesn’t seem very long when measured in human years, perhaps fifteen years at most.
So the time that we have to spend with any particular hound; taking our walks, hanging out together, is rather short. We need to savor every moment. Oliver certainly does.
The poems in “Dog Songs” range from celebrations to meditations honoring the enduring bonds she has had with dogs like Ben, Bear, Percy, Ricky and Henry. And these deep, affectionate relationships really never seem to end. She cherishes the memories of the dogs that she has known, even after they have gone.
Oliver’s “Dog Songs” are fond expressions of her deepest doggie devotions. Here’s one of her poems that is a particular favorite of mine:
LITTLE DOG’S RHAPSODY IN THE NIGHT
He puts his cheek against mine
and makes small, expressive sounds.
And when I’m awake, or awake enough
he turns upside down, his four paws
in the air
and his eyes dark and fervent.
“Tell me you love me, ” he says.
“Tell me again.”
Could there be a sweeter arrangement? Over and over he gets to ask.
I get to tell.
“Dog Songs” contains some very sweet illustrations by John Burgoyne.
These black and white drawings depict dogs like Percy: “And next to me, tucked down his curly head and, sweet as a flower, slept.”
The dog Ricky was apparently quite the rascal. Here’s her poem about
him:
THE WICKED SMILE
“Please, please, I think I haven’t eaten for days.”
What? Ricky, you had a huge supper.
“I did? My stomach doesn’t remember.
Oh, I think I’m fading away. Please
make me breakfast and I’ll tell you
something you don’t know.”
Okay, I said. What were you going to tell me?
He smiled the wicked smile. “Before we
came over, Anne already gave me my breakfast,” he said.
Be prepared. A dog is adorable and noble.
A dog is a true and loving friend. A dog is also a hedonist.
There’s an essay in this collection about a puppy named Sammy. You’ve probably known dogs like him. Sammy liked to wander. He wouldn’t stay in his yard. He would chew through his leash, dig under the fence, do whatever it took to run free again. And best of all, Sammy’s story has a happy ending.
This book might make a lovely gift for all those dog lovers you know.
