Wednesday, 10 October 2018

The decomposing hare

Isn't it strange how some subjects are considered suitable ones on which to flex one's poetic muscles, and others are not?

Take last Saturday's walk for example. OK so I was happy enough to wax all lyrical about the glorious freedom to roam the Aberdeenshire hills (see previous post) but what I really wanted to commemorate was another aspect of the walk entirely.

I was getting some way towards describing in verse by far the most thrilling aspect of the day's outing when Gail stopped me firmly and said, "Bertie this is absolutely not all suitable."

I hope you'll agree she was being unfair....

How fine it is to sniff
A decomposing hare,
Oh what a pungent whiff,
Just nothing can compare.

I raced across the heath,
And there I found, its rank
And fetid guts hid right beneath
A gorse bush on a bank.

They lay before me in a state
Of sumptious putrefaction.
When Gail caught up it was too late,
I'd gorged to my full satisfaction.

When further on the walk I tried 
To kiss Gail with my slime smeared nose,
She backed away in horror, cried,


  1. bertie that is a miracle... we are those with the sensitive nose but nevertheless humans say we stink...I mean if we can stand a smell with our 220 millions of scent cells, how can humans even notive that smell with their pitiful 5 millions?

  2. Hari Om
    Bertie lad, that was a wonderful depiction of a sensory experience - for both of you - so I cannot understand Gail's objections! hugs and wags YAM-aunty xxx

  3. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh My Word I give Gail 100 for touching on all our senses here today. I think I even caught a wiff "of fetid guts hid right beneath"of the decomposing hare over here on this side of the pond.
    So inquiring minds need to be clear...
    you gave it a TASTE? Talk about morning breath? YIKES?
    Hugs Cecilia

    1. Gail says: the full truth is that when I caught up with Bertie his mouth was crammed full to bursting with slimy intestine, so revolting I could not bring myself to try to pull it away from him. So yes, he swallowed the lot. Rather to my surprise, aside from the smell, there were no significant negative consequences!

  4. So glad to hear that there were no “negative consequences” other than the smell. Teka has a habit of “negative consequencing “ on the rug at about 2 am

  5. We feel your pain, Bertie. A week ago, sadly a deer got hit by a car along the road we walk. He was catapulted onto the grassy area. Mom avoided the area until animal control picked up the poor deer, but oh what a delightful smell and debris that deer left on the grass - it was truly heavenly. BUT the Momster made a big detour around that wonderful spot and ruined our fun.

    Woos - Lightning, Misty, and Timber

  6. Ahhhhh, the Poet Laureate of Scotland. Such a wonderful poem of an exquisite experience.

  7. That is quite an ode to the decomposing hare you found on your walk. We're glad you didn't have any adverse effects from your indulgence.

  8. Ah, Bertie, I believe the Poet Laureate of Aberdeen, nay Scotland, awaits thee!

  9. Oh my, that was quite the vivid description Mom almost had an adverse reaction BOL!
    Hazel & Mabel

  10. What a beautiful poem BErtie...we have no idea why Gail wouldn't think it was suitable.
    Rosy, Jakey & Arty

  11. Oh Bertie, the peeps just don't understand. Can you believes Ma gagged?? I thinks she pictured Moi with the guts in my mouth, my beard, my snooter, then doing my famous head shake/slobber fling! where all the nice gut slime would go in her hair! I don't see the problem. I truly thinks you are the bestest poet evers!
    Ruby ♥

    1. The slobber fling? I must try that one some time!
      Toodle pip! Bertie.

  12. You have never made a decomposing hare sound so delightful, my friend!

  13. Hey Dude if Madi here
    Just wanted to tell you how much I thoroughly enjoyed your most manly poem. It was as if I was there in the grand hunt w you
    Jumping manly chest bumps
    Bryan aka dad of Madi

    1. Oh thank you Bryan for these encouraging comments. I do worry that my occasional urge to write verse might be considered a bit, well, you know, unmanly!
      Toodle pip! Bertie.

  14. Oh how wonderful. That is a terrier-ific poem! We can imagine ourselves right there with you. ❤️ Wyatt and Tegan

  15. Bertie,

    Your adventures are literally poetry in motion (no pun intended), although from Gail's additional comments there was no motion to report. BOL!