Poetry Blog No 200 The Dog and the Wolf

THE DOG AND THE WOLF

Though less common these days narrative was a large part of poetry in the past. From Homer to the 19th century epic storytelling in verse was common. Ballads and other poems told shorter stories. Stories benefited from the rhythmic, sound, and imagery strength that verse can create.

The fable that this poem is based on is probably older than Aesop.

That the fable dates from before Aesop's time is suggested by a single line surviving from a poem by Archilochos in which the question is asked 'what has caused the scruff of his neck to become so worn'. It is conjectured that this refers to some early version of the fable, which is well attested in later Greek sources, including the collection of Babrius, as well as in the Latin collection of Phaedrus. The fable was also well known in the Middle Ages, was included in William Caxton's collection, and was made the subject of a Neo-Latin poem by Hieronymus Osius. from Wikipedia. 

THE DOG AND THE WOLF

Through all the forest there was not a breeze.

The bright rays of the moon's light whitened leaves.

A wolf was on the prowl in its clear light,

Out hunting: he was ravenous that night.

The poor beast was so hungry and so thin,

His ribs were almost sticking through his skin.

Now as he slunk along he chanced to meet

A tame dog, looking plump, well-fed and sleek.

"Good evening to you, good cousin hound,"

The wolf growled softly, with a jealous sound,

"How goes the world with you?"

                                             "Fine, fine,"

The dog said, "How are you, good friend of mine?

You look a little lean and starved."

"Alas, good cousin dog, the hunting's hard,

And I can scarcely scrape enough together."

"Dear me, my cousin wolf, from what I gather,

You live your life in great uncertainty,

Why don't you get a steady job like me?"

The wolf paused, scratched his head a bit, and thought,

"Yes, yes, dear dog. I guess you're right. I ought

To get a job. But where shall I find one?"

"There's nothing easier," barked the dog, "just come.

My master's home, he'd find you work all right,

And all you have to do to earn your bite

Is growl, to scare off any thieves at night."

"Yes, living in the woods or on the plain,

And often whipped by wind or soaked by rain,

I never know where I'll get my next meal,"

The wolf replied, "Yes, yes, you have a deal.

For what have I to lose now anyway?

I'd get warm shelter there and food each day."

"Well, follow me, my friend," replied the pet.

"I do not think I'll follow you just yet.

For first I want to know," the wolf growled back,

"What's that large mark upon your furry neck?"

"That's nothing," said the dog with some surprise,

"My collar's tight, I need a bigger size."

The wolf asked softly, "Collar? Could you explain?"

"Yes," answered the dog, "the collar that holds my chain."

"Your chain? You mean that you're tied up at home?

You mean to say you're not left free to roam

Wherever you wish; free like the roving wind?"

With gentle growls the wolf now questioned him.

"Er, not exactly free all of the time,"

The dog explained this with a trace of shame,

"In fact, my friend, my master feels that I'm

A little fierce, quick-tempered- so in the day,

If it should be that he must go away,

He chains me up to make sure that I stay.

But when the stars appear he leaves me free

To go wherever I wish to go, you see.

Thus during hours of day I rest a bit

And catch up on my sleep, so I am fit

To watch at night and stay quite wide awake.

I am much loved. My master lets me take
The odd scrap from the table- life's free from worry.
Good wolf, why are you going? What's your hurry?"

"Good night to you, poor dog," the wolf replied,

"You're welcome to you luxury in chains!

For I must say, to be but frank and plain,

That I prefer my freedom to your fat!"

And finishing their little chat with that,

The wolf turned tail and quickly trotted back,

Unchained, untamed, into the friendly darkness,

Into the free depths of the forest's vastness.