Now 770 in dog
years, you’ve aged gently in our hearts and minds.
As books progressed, you morphed within Baum’s log,
terrier migrating from Cairn to find
Yorkshire then Boston your breed, then returned
to your origin. Why such traveling?
Perhaps your creator’s subconscious yearned
to mirror his own life’s journey, or sing
of constant change in all from earth to earth.
The movie settled you for most of us.
Made you a legend and, for what it’s worth,
125 bucks a week. Trust
me, your image always comes to the fore
with this: “…we’re not in Kansas anymore.”
Roger Armbrust
May 26, 2010
