The Leanin' Dog Poetry Contest:
	Prize for the Best Leanin' Dog Poetry Contest is a Leanin' Dog T-shirt! How To Enter E-mail your poem, T-shirt size (including whether it is a YOUTH or ADULT size), your e-mail address AND your home mailing address to kanuzum@earthlink.net Rules One entry per contest round. The poem must be original, must be 50 words or less and MUST contain the word LEANIN' (leaning) or DOG. The first winner will be announced on the web site Nov. 30, second winner will be announced Jan. 30, then March 30, May 30, and the final winner will be announced on July 30. Allow three weeks after announcement on the website for prize to arrive. Read the Entries Below!
Dessa Dean's Mama's Recipes "Oh, Lordy!" I couldn't help yelling that out when Leanin' Dog jumped out of the Mr. and Mrs. Heines's fancy Model A Ford automobile and started running lickety-split back through the trees and the miles in the direction of our cabin. "Dad gum it, Dessa Dean," Daddy said under his breath with his lips all tight even though his hands were still folded neat on his lap. "I knew I shouldn't have let you talk me into bringing the blamed dog." Then next thing I knew, I had scrambled out of that crazy contraption, and I was running lickety-split after the dog. I understood later from Daddy that it was a mite embarrassing having to ask the Mr. and Mrs. Heineses to turn around and chase after me and the Leanin' Dog when they'd already been so nice as to go miles out of their way to meet us down at the school in the canyon to lug us all the way into town for the annual picnic. About five hours after me and Leanin' Dog had jumped out of the automobile, though, every one of us, including the dog, was set down on one of Mama's hand-sewn quilts spread out on the green grass in the town park. Daddy and the Mr. and Mrs. Heineses were laughing so hard there were tears rolling down their cheeks, and what they were laughing at was the picture Leanin' Dog and I had provided leaping over the side of the shiny Model A and high-tailing it into the woods. I liked it when Daddy laughed for it was kind of rare, so I didn't take it personal or let it worry me a whit. What was preying on my mind was the fact of the blackberry jam cakes I had brought along to the potluck picnic. Mama had baked four or five of them every single year since I could remember, and this was the first year... It was the first time I had done the baking, and more than anything, I wanted to do right by Mama, and I wanted those blackberry jam cakes to cause all the picnickers to pause for a moment and recall the sweetness Mama had brought to them through the years.
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