A Bit Of (Green) Doggerel

 

            “You OK, Suzy?” He found her sitting with her eyes squeezed shut, tail wrapped around as tightly as she could get it, down among the dry stores. She had a way of going stealth down between the cartons and cans. “What are you doing?  Are you sick again?”

            Willie hated it when Suzy got a little puny.  The whole house filled with concern, a kind of fog of anxiety.  That level of angst put him off his dinner! So far, she’d been fine every time.

            “I’m alive Willie. I only look sick because I’m thinking,” whispered Suzy, without opening her eyes.

            “That makes a lot of sense, strangely. What in the name of all red dots, and catnip mice do you have to think about. No wonder you look sick,” said her kindly brother.

            “It’s that green dog.  I can’t forget him out there, beyond the glass… It’s not natural to have a green dog,” she moaned a little. “I decided to write a song.”

            “Suze, you can’t write at all. You could do like the ancients did and just memorize it,” he said.

            “It’s called The Green Dog Blues. I might need some help.” She opened her eyes then.

            “Do you have any more than the title?” said Willie.

            “A little.   Out in the yard I saw him,

                            From the corner of my eye.

                           I’m not sure he’s really out there.

                          Don’t even ask me why.

            “It’s a start, but you do need help,” said Willie. “What is it that bugs you the most about the green dog?”

            “I don’t know what he wants, or why he came to our house, or what he is made of,” she said. “Mostly I’m not sure I really saw him.”

            “How about,” said Willie:

                        Among the floral plantings,

                        I think I saw him linger….

            “Oh no Willie, that’s no better than my verse,” she sighed. “What can we do?”

            “There’s only two of us today, but maybe we could have a small Power-Purr™ to sort it out,” said Willie, sitting down beside his worried sister behind the boxes.

            They put their hearts together. They purred a lengthy purr. At last some wisdom occurred to both of them, but she spoke it.

            “The Green Dog Blues is another name for a song writer’s paralysis!,” announced Suzy happily. “It has named itself!”

            “What a relief,” purred Willie. “Let’s go around to the front of the house where the sun is now. Let’s get behind the curtain and warm up where it’s hot, our favorite spot!

            “Some day you’ll write a song, and it will come easy, like words from Heaven Suzy! Don’t worry about it anymore! Worry never helped a writer one little bit, I have heard from Her own lips.”

            And that’s just what they did. And they slept for a long time, until the window got dark.

😺💚😸