The way the dog trots out the front door
every morning
without a hat or an umbrella,
without any money,
or the keys to her dog house
never fails to fill the saucer of my heart
with milky admiration.
( From “Dharma” by Billy Collins)
I admit it: I’m not a great lover of poetry. Some people are wired to be just that, but not me. Still, every once in a while, I encounter a poetic turn of phrase or even an entire poem that touches my soul and makes me sit in wondrous awe of the poet’s quiet skill. Robert Frost could do that to me. So can Billy Collins.
Billy Collins was the Poet Laureate of the United States from 2001 to 2003. That makes me wonder: do we even have a Poet Laureate these days? If so, is he or she one of Mr. Trump’s ballroom benefactors and, if so, what rhymes with “rampant corruption?”
Anyway…
What i want to muse about today is Mr. Collins’ phrase,“the saucer of my heart.” Think about it: is that fist-sized organ that beats in each and every chest—or at least has the capacity to be—really a saucer of milky admiration? Sometimes, when I least expect it, mine overflows and I’m reduced (or elevated!) to tears. It’s often the little things that have the most effect: for example, one of Steve Hartman’s precious snapshots of gratitude (if you don’t know about these, Google CBS’ “On the Road;” you can thank me later), or maybe it’s just a fleeting memory that rises unexpectedly out of the deep well of my advancing years. Whatever the cause of the tearful spill, I feel like a giant, cresting wave has washed over me and cleansed my soul, and when it finally recedes, I’m good to go for at least another day or two.
To help me pass the time while my new knee has been healing, a friend gave me a compendium of Billy Collin’s work entitled “Dog Show.” Every poem in this little book—and every lovely accompanying illustration by watercolorist Pamela Sztybel—is about a dog. They are all simple poems: accessible, witty, and charming—just the kind of poetry that will “fill the saucer of my heart with milky admiration.” They’re good reading at this time of year and under these conditions. You know the conditions to which I refer.
The dog in the photo that accompanies this Musing is nKozi, a vizsla I inherited from a friend who was moving overseas. nKozi took care of me for eight or nine years; we went to work together every day, walking across the fields of the school where I lived and taught. Everyone knew him; everyone loved him. He was a gentle, mellow, funny soul who napped on the couch in my office until it was time for us to go home and he could lope across the baseball field at the end of the day. nKozi died in 2010; I miss him still. He set a standard for dogs I have yet to see matched. He certainly grew the saucer of my heart and filled it with milky admiration a thousand times over.
The title of Mr. Collins’ poem is “Dharma.” Dharma is a basic tenet of many Eastern religions; it represents the law that sustains the universe, guiding moral conduct and life purpose. Its key aspects include fulfilling personal, social, and spiritual duties that align with universal truth. I think nKozi knew all about that.
I’ll be right back.
One Response
Jamie,
As a professional pet sitter, I have met many owners who feel very close to their dogs and miss them when they are gone too.
I have written a poem about my cat who I adopted a year ago and don’t consider myself a poet but the poem about her was one that came straight from my heart.
I am looking forward to reading the book by Billy Collins.
Thank you for this beautiful tribute to your dog, nKozi.
Donna