On a Possible Change

So, I'm considering a blog revamp. Here's what it would look like:

Exactly the same!
Except with more posts. And they would be shorter. They would be just a little something that is on my mind, or a quote or poem that has been rolling around in my head. A chance to share what I love, what I hope for, an anecdote from my day. Also! Then I could share more photos!

Here's an example:
Sometimes when Picco's being calm with me I scratch him and he sort of half-closes his eyes. It's a look of either pleasure or annoyance. And I wish he could talk to me so he could say "Yes! Right there!" or "Geez, lady, lay off it, would you?"
And then the other day I came upon this poem, by Billy Collins. It is my fear, realized.

The Revenant

I am the dog you put to sleep,
as you like to call the needle of oblivion,
come back to tell you this simple thing:
I never liked you--not one bit.

When I liked your face,
I thought of biting off your nose.
When I watched you toweling yourself dry,
I wanted to leap and unman you with a snap.

I resented the way you moved,
your lack of animal grace,
the way you would sit in a chair to eat,
a napkin in your lap, knife in your hand.

I would have run away,
but I was too weak, a trick you taught me
while I was learning to sit and heel,
and--greatest of insults--shake hands without a hand.

I admit the sight of the leash
would excite me
but only because it meant I was about
to smell things you had never touched.

You do not want to believe this,
but I have no reason to lie.
I hated the car, the rubber toys,
disliked your friends and, worse, your relatives.

The jingling of my tags drove me mad.
You always scratched me in the wrong place.
All I ever wanted from you
was food and fresh water in my metal bowls.

While you slept, I watched you breathe
as the moon rose in the sky.
It took all my strength
not to raise my head and howl.

Now I am free of the collar,
the yellow raincoat, monogrammed sweater,
the absurdity of your lawn,
and that is all you need to know about this place

except what you already supposed
and are glad it did not happen sooner--
that everyone here can read and write,
the dogs in poetry, the cats and all the other in prose.

---

So now I'm the sort of person who puts poems on the internet. Crap.
But really. Tell me what you think.