POETIC LICENCE

Reg Rumney, erstwhile columnist for this newspaper, is one of South Africa’s most prominent and respected business and economics journalists and editors. Researcher, teacher and creative thinker, he was Director of the SA Reserve Bank Centre for Economics Journalism at Rhodes University for eight years until 2015. A formidable intellect and a leader in his field, Reg now runs his own media business in Johannesburg with communications specialist Janet Wilhelm ( http://newsmakers.co.za/).

But I know Reg as a friend and (although he would probably deny this) as a fellow poet. When he lived in Grahamstown he was a supporter of and contributor to the monthly Reddits Poetry evenings, often reciting unusual poems by obscure or almost-forgotten poets – and these readings were never dull.

Occasionally one might meet him out walking with his devoted and much-loved dog, Brandy. We’d stop and chat briefly before Reg would be hauled off by Brandy to continue their exploration of nearby streets, lampposts and trees.

So when Brandy died recently it was, as all dog owners will understand, a painful and distressing time for Reg.

Although she was apparently not always the most welcoming of dogs (especially to other animals which were, to Reg’s clear discomfiture, sometimes greeted rather inhospitably) Reg loved Brandy, and Brandy clearly loved him.

Here is what Reg wrote to me in an email this week to which he had attached a lovely poem in memory of his dog and which he asked me to read on his behalf at Reddits Poetry tonight:

“I lost track of how many times I had to rescue other dogs from her jaws. Mention my apologies to the owners of her various victims. Brandy was special to me, however.”

I am more than happy to read ‘A small death’ this evening, not simply because it expresses so poignantly, so powerfully, that special relationship so often pertaining between dogs and their owners; not only because I too love dogs; and certainly not just because Reg is my friend, but because it is such a genuinely fine poem in its own right.

So please join Brandy, Reg and me at Café D’Vine this evening if you can. Whether in the flesh or in spirit we will welcome you there.

A small death

You were handed back to me in a small, varnished box, entombing a plastic bag filled with ash and bone bits.

Your going seemed so tame, terrifier of cats and rats, who tackled most threats, real or not, snarling and headlong.

For the first time, you, whose only evident horror was being left alone, shunned my touch, shifted away,

and softly struggling with shallow gasps exhaled your life. And all at once the light behind your eyes was switched off,

once whip-lithe, quick to lunge or slip a collar or escape the fence, brown brak, to scavenge through the Grahamstown streets.

And I remembered, looking at those now stilled fangs, the clamp of jaws on noses, ears, skin, of dogs who’d come too close,

and my cringing apologies for our misconduct, half-wild dog who made my life both more and less mundane.

I will recycle leash, bowls and red blanket you nested in. But what do I do with this puzzling sarcophagus?

Reg Rumney (See his excellent poetry blog at

http://regrum.worpress.com)