Roscoe is no ordinary hound. Despite coming from humble beginnings, he was gifted with the ability to smell extraordinarily well. His special abilities had the whole city eating out of his paw, until one day, his superpower was mysteriously gone. Inspired by the author's very own rescue dog, Roscoe, this is a delightful tale of friendship, identity, and finding one's inner  joy .  Amazon release date: 12/8/2018 🐶      This is the poem I wrote one month BEFORE I found the hound of my life, Roscoe: (8/4/2017)       Saturday night  its just me and the fireworks  i like the idea of someone celebrating something i know nothing of  i rest my head on the tile, in front of our favorite door, no sparkles from here  dinner was good tonight.  i wonder how they knew i craved red curry,  i wonder what the bombings in Syria will entail,  i overhear anita and julio next door,  i think that's their name,  i overhear them discuss things,  i can tell they feel bad for me but aren't sure what to do,  maybe they are the ones responsible for the red curry,  im cute enough, i could walk up to any house on the block  they'd take me in.  but this is my house,  i sometimes pray for old age to hurry up  or a car to drive through a stop sign,  it would involve some pain, im sure  but it would mean something happening.  I've slept on every bed,  defecated on every tabletop  and howled at every passerby,  and yet no one praises nor reprimands me,  i don't know why you left,  if you died on your way to work, i hope it was swift  if you won the lottery, i hope you bought that boat and are out there sailing  i don't know why im still here,  at least someone still feeds me,  i wouldn't want to look old and bony if you were to come back,  whatever happened,  i understand.

Roscoe is no ordinary hound. Despite coming from humble beginnings, he was gifted with the ability to smell extraordinarily well. His special abilities had the whole city eating out of his paw, until one day, his superpower was mysteriously gone. Inspired by the author's very own rescue dog, Roscoe, this is a delightful tale of friendship, identity, and finding one's inner joy.

Amazon release date: 12/8/2018 🐶

 

This is the poem I wrote one month BEFORE I found the hound of my life, Roscoe: (8/4/2017)

 

Saturday night

its just me and the fireworks

i like the idea of someone celebrating something i know nothing of

i rest my head on the tile, in front of our favorite door, no sparkles from here

dinner was good tonight.

i wonder how they knew i craved red curry,

i wonder what the bombings in Syria will entail,

i overhear anita and julio next door,

i think that's their name,

i overhear them discuss things,

i can tell they feel bad for me but aren't sure what to do,

maybe they are the ones responsible for the red curry,

im cute enough, i could walk up to any house on the block

they'd take me in.

but this is my house,

i sometimes pray for old age to hurry up

or a car to drive through a stop sign,

it would involve some pain, im sure

but it would mean something happening.

I've slept on every bed,

defecated on every tabletop

and howled at every passerby,

and yet no one praises nor reprimands me,

i don't know why you left,

if you died on your way to work, i hope it was swift

if you won the lottery, i hope you bought that boat and are out there sailing

i don't know why im still here,

at least someone still feeds me,

i wouldn't want to look old and bony if you were to come back,

whatever happened,

i understand.

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