Born On This Day- August 10th... Writer, Mark Doty

Mark Doty is my favorite American poet, in a league with Walt Whitman & Frank O’Hara. Elegant, unflinching, sometimes melancholy, his imagery haunts me. I appreciate the duality of the rural & the urbane in his work, indeed, he describes the plant life of a vacant city lot. Like the poet, as a gay man I have always sought out a life in an urban center while being enchanted by a cabin at the beach. I have attempted to take my city lot & make a place for nature. A tiny attempt at both worlds.

Doty: "I've always been a poet who wrote about urban life because I love the layers & surprises & the jangly complexities of cities. I feel at home in cities, being a gay man. It's a place of permission & possibility. In 1990, I moved to Provincetown. I also love this landscape of salt marshes, beaches & dunes, but I had to write about it in a different way. In the marsh, there is no narrative. All that happens is that a bird flies by, the tide comes in & goes out."

His poetry also addresses the artifice & the natural: "I play around with the distinction between art & nature, the real & the false. My experience often feels pretty seamless. . . I've always been drawn to artifice & the beauties of surface and shadings and tone. A lot of the process of development is figuring out how to be all of yourself in a poem. How do you let your love of wigs & make-up, your sense of humor, your anger find its way into the poem?"

My husband & I have lived with, loved & buried 4 dogs. Just this past week we lost a canine friend of an important player in our lives, a dog loved as if she was our own. Doty’s poetry collections have altered my point of view & his language has transported me. But, it is a work of prose that has moved me the most. I read his lovely Dog Years: A Memoir in 2 sittings, ironically taking a break only to walk my terriers. A meditation on life & loss & the method that grief squeezes into your life & never lets go, Doty tells of the life he shared with his 2 dogs as he experiences the decline & death of a partner from HIV, & how the canines move & affect a new relationship with a new love & future spouse.

How many ways have all my dogs had a profound affect on how I have dealt with the heights & valleys of my life & my 30 year marriage? The Husband & I have had a dog, usually 2, for nearly all our time together. At one point, I think we stayed a couple because of the dogs.

In Dog Years, Doty, in an improbable decision, adopts a dog as a companion for his dying partner. Beau is a large golden retriever, possibly abused & in need of love & companionship. Beau is made part of the family, paired with Arden, another retriever, & Doty’s partner- Wally. Beau responds well to his new life, & bounces back to life. The 2 dogs become Doty's best friends, comfort, & the reason to keep going on the worst of days. The canines’ moxie, loyalty, & love give him hope when all else fails.

Dog Years is a moving & intimate memoir with profound meditations on the life we share with animals & the lessons they teach us about life, love, & loss. Doty gives me a view of the vulnerability of dogs, how they rely on us, & the positive outlook they bring, & the gift of unconditional love. Dog Years is unsentimental, but intensely, mournfully, movingly affecting. We all will have to deal with loss. This book will help just a little bit.

The very handsome Mark Doty’s work has been honored by the National Book Critics Circle Award, the PEN/Martha Albrand Award for First Nonfiction, the Los Angeles Times Book Prize, a Whiting Writers Award, a Lila Wallace-Reader’s Digest Writer’s Award, & the T.S. Eliot Prize. He has received fellowships from the Guggenheim Foundation, the National Endowment for the Arts, the Ingram Merrill Foundation, & the Dorothy & Lewis B. Cullman Center for Scholars & Writers at the New York Public Library. He is a professor at the University of Houston. Doty lives in NYC, Fire Island, & Provincetown with his equally handsome & talented husband- writer Paul Lisicky.

We are the same age, along with a love of men, & dogs, Mark Doty & I are both bloggers. I don't impy that we are in the same league & now I must sign off. Lulu & Junior are waiting for their morning walk.

That Sinking Feeling

That ship hit that iceberg 100 years ago tonight, spawning one sober & sad movie in 1953 & for me (& seemingly me alone), one nearly intolerable, but award winning film in 1997, plus a Broadway musical from the same year that admonished:“In every age mankind attempts / to fabricate great works at once / magnificent & impossible.”

On every anniversary, the International Ice Patrol, founded in response to the sinking, drops a memorial wreath on the Titanic’s last reported position. The world will just not stop remembering.

There were 12 canines on the doomed ocean liner, 3 survived. One of the survivors was a Lady, a Pomeranian. Lady’s owner was Margaret Hays of NYC,  who wrapped her in a blanket & carried her into a lifeboat.

Also living to enjoy another biscuit were Sun Yat-sen, a Pekingese belonging to Henry & Myra Harper of  Harper & Row publishing & another Pomeranian, this one belonging to a Rothschild.

The 9 dogs confined in the onboard kennel, walked, fed & cared for by the crew, all died. A pair of dogs belonged to American coal magnate William Carter, who reassured his worried children that their pets were safe as they clambered into the lifeboats. His daughter Lucy was later compensated $100 by Lloyds of London for her King Charles spaniel, while his son Billy received $200 for his Airedale.

The other dogs that perished included a pair of Airedales owned by John Jacob Astor IV, a Fox Terrier named Dog, a toy poodle belonging to Helen Bishop, & Gamin de Pycombe- a French Bulldog.

There was a Great Dane owned by Ann Elizabeth Isham, who visited her dog at the ship's kennel daily & when she was evacuating, she asked to take him also. When she was told the dog was too large, she refused to leave without him & got out of the lifeboat. They were found floating days later, Isham still clutching her beloved large dog.

The crew often had at least one cat on board each ship to help keep the rat population down. There was a cat with young kittens aboard the Titanic but when the ship arrived in Southampton from Belfast, she was seen disembarking. Up and down the gangplank she went, retrieving one kitten at a time that she deposited on the dock. She & the kittens quickly disappeared. It is supposed the she had a premonition that the voyage wasn't going to be a smooth sailing.

Ah, Shit!

I get a lot of our dog walks. I really get to take in the neighborhood homes & gardens in a way I cannot from an automobile or even walking briskly on my own, because dogs stop to sniff & investigate the world.

Yesterday morning it was sunny & warm in Portland, a near perfect day for the celebration of the resurrection & what should have been an exceptional dog walk was marred when Junior, who could have done it anywhere on the trip, stopped & pooped a huge load on a lovely, manicured green lawn, filled with children in their Easter best, having an egg hunt.

Not only did Junior choose this spot to do his business, but as the grown-ups on the porch glowered at me, I noted that Junior was sporting a impressive big red rocket of a canine erection at the same time that he donating his feces to the event. Picking up those poops was a humbling experience.

Junior

Lulu

I Love How You Love Me

Details From Post Apocalyptic Bohemia

The terriers each found a spot in the sun. Let me introduce Lulu (above) & Junior (in the photograph below).

Greetings!

There is nothing nearly as warming as being greeted by your dogs. After a full day of attempting to make happy: shoppers, staff, supervisors & spouses, nothing says love like the delirious delight of the “welcome home, I missed you so much! I missed you so much! Your home!” from a canine.

I give the love back. I can talk the terriers into a sort of hypnotic state, with the incantation of: “what a good dog…daddy loves you so much… you are so adorable.” Lulu & Junior’s eyes will roll back in their heads & their taut little bodies will ripple as I stroke them. If only Husbands could be lulled in the same manner.

Lulu Has Adopted a Pendelton Blanket, Again Exercising Her Good Taste

September Song...Goodbye My Friend

Oh we never know where life will take us

I know it's just a ride on the wheel

& we never know when death will shake us

& we wonder how it will feel

So goodbye my friend

I know I'll never see you again

But the time together through all the years

Will take away these tears

It's okay now

Goodbye my friend

I've seen a lot things that make me crazy

& I guess I held on to you

We could've run away & left, well maybe

But it wasn't time & we both knew

So goodbye my friend

I know I'll never see you again

But the love you gave me through all the years

Will take away these tears

I'm okay now

Goodbye my friend

Life's so fragile & love is so pure

We can't hold on, but we try

We watch how quickly it disappears

& we never know why

But I'm okay now

Goodbye my friend

You can go now

Goodbye my friend

Karla Bonoff

1989

All Dog Stories Have The Same Ending

Larry Dog

1998-2011

It is a heartbreaking, crushing sensation to schedule your dog's death, but that is what we had to do. One could think that I would be somewhat hardened by experience, having had to schedule the endings of 2 other dogs before him. Only Butch (1992-2007) went suddenly. It was a blessing. The horror of scheduling Larry's demise was that everything was a "last": his last Thursday, his last Friday, his last full day, his final "last call for potty", his last cookie.

Larry, like so many animals & people in our lives, was an orphan. To be fair, Larry was much loved by his original family, who decided to give him up because he was nipping at the toddler. Jack Russell Terriers, cute though they may be, are not the best dog for a household with children. They do not have the patience of a Lab or Golden Retriever, having their tails pulled & being rode like a pony.

Larry's first family were distraught over the choice of giving him, but relieved that he was going to a terrier keen couple who would provide him with a loving home with lots of walks & lots of cookies. Larry would be our 4th terrier.

Larry was the Eric Cartman of canines (I hope you understand the South Park reference): entitled, perpetually petulant, food obsessed & sassy. He would actually grumble under his breath as he walked across the room. Larry was as tenacious as any terrier I have encountered. We were initially timorous at his ultra-terrier comportment, often stubborn & selfish. His original family stopped to visit him once after had been with us 3 years, & we were shocked that he behaved as an angel dog in their presence. When they left he immediately started to swear under his doggy breath: "god damn it, ggggrrr... give me a cookie & let's get back to the business of making me fulfilled, you gay daddies!"

Larry was not an affectionate dog, but he had his tender moments. He was very sweet on The Husband & The Husband would start each day with about 15 minutes of tummy & ear rubs & kisses with him, but soon Larry would have enough & he would give a huff of exasperation, saying to us: "I hate this mushy stuff. If you truly love me, you would give a caboodle of cookies!"

Lulu is our 6th dog in our 32 years as a couple. I surmise what it must be like to have several children. You love them all, but you love them differently. Larry was very different in personality & presence from the other 5 dogs: Overweight, hairy, spoiled, outspoken, lazy, & foul-mouthed. I know what you must be thinking... Larry seemed to be the perfect dog match for me. Junior is thin, sensitive & damaged by his past, making him an excellent match for The Husband. But Larry was very loved by me, especially loved by The Husband & amusing to our circle of friends.

Like those before him, we had the doctor come to our house so that his last moments would not be in a sterile, brightly lit room. He was in the home that he loved to be in (Larry was loath to go outside, if he could be inside on a pillow). His daddies had been crying for days. The past 8 weeks, Larry's hind legs no longer worked. We would carry him outside to pee. He would go about the house dragging his hind end, using his front legs only. He looked like a big dust mop.  At the end Larry was often not able to let us know that he needed to go out & we were left to deal with his "accidents" for several months.

Why do I feel the need to still convince myself that we are doing the right thing? Why is my heart so broken?

Good-bye, Larry Dog. You were loved. I will always think of you, you will not be forgotten. Give your buddy Butch (dog # 3) a butt sniff when you cross over to the other side. He has been waiting for you.

2006

Butch is in the background

Before he got too old, Larry liked to be king of the hill & sat atop the furniture.

His best friend was The Husband. Here is reminding Larry to wear sunscreen while tanning.

September Song... The Dog Song

I'm just a walking my dog

Singing my song

Strolling along

Yeah it's just me & my dog

Catching some sun

We can't go wrong

My life was lonely & blue

I was sad as a sailor

I was an angry one too

Then there was you

Appeared, when I was entangled

with youth, & fear, & nerves

Vermouth & beer

Were gettin' me mangled up

But then I looked in your eyes

& I was no more a failure

You looked so wacky & wise

& I said, lord I'm happy

'cause I'm just a walking my dog

Singing my song

Strolling along

It's just me & my dog

Catchin' some sun

We can't go wrong

Because I don't care about your hating & your doubt

& I don't care what the politicians spout

If you wanna companion

Well just go right to the pound

& find yourself a hound

& make that doggie proud

Because that's what it's all about

My life was tragic & sad

Yeah I was the archetypal loser
I was a pageant gone bad

Then there was you on time

& wagging your tail

In the cutest mime

& you was in jail

I said woof, be mine

& you gave a wail

& then I was no longer alone

& I was no more a boozer

We'll make the happiest home

& I said lord, I'm happy

Because I'm just a walking my dog

Singing my song

Strolling along

It's just me & my dog

Catchin' some sun

We can't go wrong

Because I don't care about your hating & your doubt

& I don't care what the politicians spout

If you need a companion

Well just go right to the pound

& find yourself a hound

& make that doggie proud

Beause that's what it's all about

That's what it's all about

That's what it's all abow-wow-wow-wout

That's what it's all about

Nelly McKay
2004

CSI: Post Apocalyptic Bohemia

Junior & Lulu at couples counseling

Early this morning, while having tea in the Boys' Fort, The Husband committed himself to cutting Junior's nails, something that in the past has been done by professionals. He unintentionally cut into the quick & the poor little canine was bleeding. I took him for a long walk thinking he would stop with the bleeding by our return & the cool, clean, condensation of the grass in the park would feel good on his toes.

When we returned home, Junior seemed to be doing well. I drove The Husband to a job in NW Portland & when I returned I opened the door to what looked like a crime scene. Nearly ever surface was stained with blood, including the white shag rug in the front room, the newer sofa, the antique Belgian, circa 1820s, sofa, the wooden floors, the rug in the back room... blood splatters everywhere.

I was able to clean & recover everything with a terrific product- Nature's Little Miracle stain remover, but it took me hours of blotting to get the place recovered. I haven't spent that much time on my knees since the summer of 2007, another story for another day.

Born On This Day- September 10th... Rin Tin Tin

Born on a battlefield in World War I, Rin Tin Tin went on to be an American movie star & icon. Rin Tin Tin is credited with saving Warner Brothers from bankruptcy in the 1920s. He received 2,000 fan letters a week, that’s 286 a week in dog years. He remained a huge star until the talkies did him in.

Born on a battlefield in World War I, Rin Tin Tin went on to be an American movie star & icon. 2 months before the war would end, an American soldier- Corporal Lee Duncan discovered a bombed out German war dog station while on a scouting mission. Inside he found a shell shocked mother German Shepherd & her 5 puppies.

Not wanting to leave them helpless, Duncan brought them back to his base where he took care of them. When he returned home to California, Duncan brought Rin Tin Tin with him. Rin Tin Tin was named after small dolls French soldiers carried for good luck.

Duncan settled into his home in L.A. & he became interested in the new movie industry. Knowing his dog was special, he made the rounds of the studios, but they showed little interest in a canine movie star.

Finally he got his big break when he came upon a crew shooting a scene with a wolf. Rin Tin Tin was able to perform a feat in 1 take that had frustrated the crew trying to work the scene with a real wolf.

In 1922, Rin Tin Tin ( his friends called him "Rinty") , made his debut in a low budget western called The Man from Hell's River. He did all his own on screen stunts.

Rinty’s charisma, good looks, fearless ability & acting talent attracted the attention of the struggling Warner Brothers studio. Together they made 24 films that helped establish the new studio & made Rin Tin Tin a household name, & a magazine cover boy.

At the height of his celebrity, Rinty earned a salary of $1000 a week, had his own production unit, a chauffeur driven limousine, a personal chef & a diamond studded collar. Not much is known about his personal life, but Rinty was spotted at several underground gay spots around Hollywood. Although he was quite a stud, siring 48 pups, including a favorite named Junior, Rin Tin Tin was known to hump male stunt dogs & was very probably bisexual.

In 1930 in an ungrateful gesture, Warner Brothers released Rinty. He was forced to work low budget serials. He admitted to a Milk- Bone addiction & went into rehab. After 40 movies, he retired in 1931.




Following Rin Tin Tin's death in 1932 in L.A. (in the arms of actress Jean Harlow, according to Hollywood legend), Duncan arranged to have the dog returned to his country of birth for burial in the Cimetière des Chiens, the famous pet cemetery in the Parisian suburb of Asnières-sur-Seine.

His son, Junior went on to appear in movies following the death of his father. Rin Tin Tin is one of 3 dogs to have a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame along with Strongheart & Lassie.

As a child, I was devoted to The Adventures of Rin Tin Tin, an ABC television series that ran from 1954 to1959. It featured Rin Tin Tin IV as the star.

Andy Warhol... Party Animal

Andy & Archie by Jack Mitchell

Andy Warhol had a passion for party animals animals, especially canines. He brought his dachshund- Archie along to his many events & travels. I have lived a life filled with regrets, including not trying to infiltrate the Factory crowd when I lived in Manhattan in the 1970s... but then again, it might have done me in.

Archie 1976

Great Dane 1976

Portrait of Maurice 1976

Blue Pussy 1954

Andy & Archie by Jamie Wyeth 1975

LuLu Likes Luxury

The Escape Artist

LuLu has been in residence at Post Apocalyptic Bohemia for 18 days & she has managed to escape & take flight 5 times. She, shockingly, got out of the back garden on her first day. This fenced garden has held Butch & Sister, the 2 Jack Russells that moved with us to Portland from Seattle a decade ago. This urban oasis has been a safe haven for Larry & Junior for years. We have had the luxury of leaving the sliding doors to the garden pass-through open for canines to come & go as they please. Now they must be escorted to the garden as we attempt to ascertain LuLu's modus operandi & doggie deceit.

On the first escape, with the husband hunting the'hood in hysteria, the tiny terrier turned up on a 6 foot fence post looking like a condor or as if she was playing canine charades & her word was- gargoyle.  We had been in full-tilt frenzy because Little LuLu didn't yet have a collar & tag (since remedied).

LuLu

The #1 narrative was that the little squirt was jumping the 4 foot fence with ease. The Husband has been adding 8 foot bamboo poles lashed to the chain link fence in 6 inch intervals, but I can't conceive of my keeping calm about LuLu being unattended in the back garden.

The Husband contemplates the escape route

Junior, who has never bolted in the 4 years he has been here, did just that. The front door opened a fragment, Junior jumped over Larry the dog & took off down the street, naked! It took the unhappy Husband several blocks to nab him. It seems that LuLu had a trifling talk with Junior & compelled him to sprint down the street with a daddy giving chase. LuLu let on that this was just a boisterous blast of a good time. Bitch!

Such a very nice garden for a little orphaned dog to hang out in...

A Few Of My Favorite Things At Post Apocalyptic Bohemia

This small cabinet was purchased in 1990, in Portland, when we were still living in our Seattle cottage. We preferred junking & hunting for architectural salvage in Portland & would visit several times a year. The cabinet was spotted at a flea market on Hayden Island, not far from where we live now. It was marked- "Red Cross Supply Cabinet". It was painted enamel white & the Husband stripped it this far & I decided I that I liked the way it looked in process & asked him to not take it further. It has glass on all 4 sides. The cabinet is filled with small items from boyhood: arrowheads, agates, fossils, Indian head nickles, campaign buttons... stretching into adulthood: dog tags, glass candies from our trip to Venice, police whistles from a London junk shop, late 19th century shards found while helping dig a community garden in Seattle's International District, & the bullet from when I was shot. The cabinet of my life's flotsam & jetsam sits at the end of my worktable. Like so many things in life, if you click on it, it will get bigger.

We collect dog pictures.

 The Husband believes in filling a small space with a lot of objects & art & leaving the larger spaces with more blank areas. Our one very small bathroom, the only room in the house that has yet to have an extensive makeover, is filled with collections. The top painting was found at the 12th Street Flea Market in NYC on our 20th anniversary. I love it beyond all reason. The bottom is from a Seattle junk shop in the Pike Place Market. We actually lived in the Market in the mid-1980s.

More from the Dog Pictures collection. On the left is a plate from a book that says- "Dog Of The Monastery" & on the right is a wood cut of a dog, a plate from a book of fables dated 1777. Above them hangs a Tramp Art terrier.

In the bathroom is a wall with some choice pieces from my vintage photographs of men.

19th Century ceramics surround the very first photograph of my collection, an opening night gift from a very cute young actor in his very early 20s (heck, I was only in my late 30s), I played his father... the pair of soldiers from WW1 are remarkable to me still, & a lovely memory of a time when I was working a lot as an actor & had young men buying me gifts. This piece started 25 years of collecting old photographs of men being affectionate.

Thank you for taking a look around. I have more if you are curious.

The Name Game

The Husband named the new family member- Louise, but he already calls her- Lulu. This is not surprising. He refers to Junior as- June. He addresses me as- Steve, The Husband cuts to the chase & names things with the cleanest & most concise choice off a nickname or shortcut. No one in my life calls me Steve except the Husband & the people in our lives that he gotten to first & trained. In my own mind I am always- Stephen. When I protested the shortened name a few decades ago, the Husband stated: "Steve is a better name: succinct, smooth & sexy.. just think Steve McQueen."

Lulu

Sing Out, Louise!

Orphans. We always seem to have one, but in the summer of 2011 we have 2, a canine & human. I will post about both of them, but the canine orphan's tale is a more sanguine story, so it goes first.

Larry, the dog, moved into Post Apocalyptic Bohemia a few months after Sister, our tiny terror of a terrier left us at age 16. A tough one, that Sister, even to the end. Putting her down was an agonizing decision. It is never easy to decide when to say good-bye to an animal friend, they rely on us for that choice, & I never want to have to make it. At the end, Sister's body was that of a dog half her age & she had no disease, no cancer, & no arthritis. But she was deaf & demented. Sister would find herself in a corner & not be able to figure out how to leave, she would walk in a small circle for hours. Heartbreakingly, Sister didn't seem to know who we were in her final months.

Larry was a rescue dog. He was a baby biter & I of course felt some affinity for this orphan. I am also drawn to biting a baby, babies are both aggravating & appetizing. He came to live with us when he was 8 years old & he recently turned 14. Larry is not the most lovable canine. He is a corpulent, cantankerous, covetous cur. He is the Eric Cartman of tail-waggers.  Still, it is woeful to watch Larry loose the use of his back legs & he has cancerous growths that take away from his masculine good looks. Larry's entire focus in life is food. He will be with us until he has no interest in eating. Then we will know it will be Larry's time to leave.

 The Husband holding a very rasty Larry. Enjoy... the Husband will make me remove this photo & I will have a reckoning.

A week ago, my handsome, sexy, talented friend Bryan tossed off: "Do you & your husband think you could take on another terrier?" I was a bit taken aback because the Husband & I had recently admitted that we were not looking for another dog, there would be no visiting of shelters or looking online, but if a hardluck story should plop in our lives, we might be able to be Daddy Warbucks for a canine Little Orphan Annie.

She was dropped off at the animal shelter in Tillamook, Oregon, by a family in an RV, saying that they just didn't want her anymore. The shelter is not a "no kill" shelter & because they lack funding in the current economy, this shelter does not hold on to animals long before doing them in. My buddy Bryan's charming mother volunteers at the shelter & she understood that this little female terrier deserved one more chance & decided to foster her rather than leave her on Death Row with the Pit Bulls.

  Her first moment in her new home

Meeting her new family

 Seemingly stunned by the promise of her fortunate future

She has been with us for only 24 hours, but she seems to sense that she has hit the doggy lotto jackpot. I have brought home all our dogs, with the Husband never having had a say in that decision. But, he has chosen all of our animal family's names. He has dubbed her- Louise. She came with the name- Snickers, but I couldn't abide saying Snickers because it was a name I was bestowed with in kindergarten, & the situation that brought me that moniker is still to painful to think about 55 years later (it had something to do with my inability to make it to the bathroom in time).

We have long ago shortened Junior's name to June... so now we have June & Louise. If you catch that reference, you are in my club.

Dainty June & Baby Louise

She already has my heart, the Husband's too.

Every little breeze seems to whisper 'Louise.'
Birds in the trees seem to twitter 'Louise.'
Each little rose tells me it knows I love you.
Every little beat that I feel in my heart
Seems to repeat what I felt at the start.
Each little sigh tells me that I adore you, Louise.
Just to see & hear you is joy I never knew,
But to be so near you thrills me through & through.
Anyone can see why I wanted your kiss.
It had to be, but the wonder is this:
Can it be true, someone like you

Could love me, Louise.

Leo Robin

1929

He Is Risen!

We Love Jesus At Post Apocalyptic Bohemia!

19th Century carved ivory Cruxifix from India, found in an Indian import store In SoHo, NYC in the late 1990s.

"Our Lord- As Is" is how the tag was marked at a junk store in the Phinney Ridge of Seattle, circa late 1980s.

In a canine memorial niche in the small hallway, Jesus looks over & protects our dead dogs in their urns: Baby (1985-1999), Sister (1990- 2006), & Butch (1994- 2007). They are joined by a mason jar of the ashes of Pearl, a close canine companion without a place to be, as her Mommy travels around the world seeking answers.

Jesus chose to be born in a stable among donkeys & cows. He chose to ride into his last week of life on a donkey. He said the foxes have their lairs & the birds their nests. He said the Father watches over the birds of the air.. the sparrows. Jesus became angry in the temple when animals were butchered.

"The lion also shall dwell with the lamb, & the leopard shall lie down with the kid; & the calf & the young lion & the fatling together; & a little child shall lead them."

Isaiah 11:6-9 (King James Version)