{"id":158,"date":"2018-07-31T19:49:21","date_gmt":"2018-08-01T00:49:21","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/jamiegergen.com\/wp-home\/?page_id=158"},"modified":"2019-05-09T17:31:25","modified_gmt":"2019-05-09T22:31:25","slug":"portfolio","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/jamiegergen.com\/wp-home\/portfolio\/","title":{"rendered":"Portfolio"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
We Are Like Elves by Jamie Gergen
<\/strong>
 I often wonder what we did to deserve dogs.
 They, who for generations bring us joy,
 who greet us after our worst day of days,
 as if we\u2019d just won the greatest prize.
 And ask of us so little in return. 
 Perhaps it is because we have won a great prize: their devotion.

 We, the un-aging companion must seem immortal to them.
 We, who will raise their grandchildren\u2019s grandchildren,
 before we even show signs of our old age.
 They must think we are ageless, like elves or gods 
 who summon them food from massive bags
 or drop it from our tables, in effortless supply.
 
We recall their names like the litany of kings.
 Rex, son of Astro. Punky, daughter of Rex. 
 Third in the line of good dogs.
 We know their quirks and flaws, 
 and they know ours. 
 They know the cookies are hidden atop the fridge.
 And that you still have not thrown the ball.
 
We raise them, care for them.
 We see them from pup to elder,
 gray grizzle covering their muzzles,
 gray cataracts covering their eyes.
 We carry them on their last days,
 feed them steak or chicken, 
 and tell them they will always get to Heaven.
 
What a shock it must be, when age and human frailty
 begin to show. How terrified must they be, 
 when we stumble and fall.
 When our limbs grow weak 
 and we start to fade from their world.
 They must help us walk or stand, in the end.
 How the gods must eventually fall in their eyes.
 And then, the mortal must care for the elves.
 
But then, they always have cared for us, haven\u2019t they?
 We, who live many decades care for beings who live for one. 
 We are elves because we want to be there 
 forever for our dogs.
 And for most of them, we can.

 If you want to know what love is,
 ask a person about their dog.<\/pre>\n\n\n\n
 
Past the Second Cornfield<\/em><\/strong>

There\u2019s never a bad time to let one\u2019s mind wander.
Into a land of elves and magic,
or a fairyland of flitting, darting pixies,
or maybe just the dream where you\u2019re surrounded by good dogs.
Yeah, I like that one a lot.
                          It\u2019s not far, just about three miles as the crow flies\u2026<\/em>

Or maybe the one where you\u2019re the hero,
white steed and glinting armor
riding to the rescue of someone in distress.
I save that one for times of drudgery,
like one more spreadsheet to edit on a Wednesday afternoon.
                        After the second cornfield, the one with the red mailbox\u2026<\/em>

Or the one where only you can save the country,
from some monologuing super-villain.
All those supermodels waiting for you
to solve the puzzle and whisk them all away
safely to a beach or yacht.
                       Then you just follow that road out to Old 41, can\u2019t miss it.<\/em>

But maybe I shouldn\u2019t have been playing with puppies,
fairies, or basking on my yacht,
when I stopped to ask directions.
Was that two lefts or two rights? <\/pre>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
We Are Like Elves by Jamie Gergen I often wonder what we did to deserve dogs. They, who for generations bring us joy, who greet us after our worst day of days, as if we\u2019d just won the greatest prize. And ask of us so little in return. Perhaps it is because we have won…<\/p>\n
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