Writings

A farmer's dog came into town,
His given name was Spud.
A noble pedigree had he,
Was definitely not a dud.

And as he trotted down the street,
'Twas beautiful to see
His mark on every, hydrant,
His work on every tree.

He watered every gateway, too,
And never missed a post.
For piddling was his specialty --
Piddling was his boast!

The city curs, looked on amazed
With deep and jealous rage,
To see a simple country dog --
The piddler of the age.

Then all the dogs, from everywhere
Were summoned by a yell
To sniff the country stranger o’er
And judge him by his smell.

Some thought that he a king might be
Beneath his tail a rose.
So every city dog drew nigh
And sniffed it up his nose.

They smelled him over, one by one,
They smelled him two by two
And noble Spud, in high disdain
Stood ‘til they were all through.

Then to show the whole shebang
He didn' care at all,
He trotted to a grocery store
And piddled on the wall.

He piddled in a mackerel keg,
He piddled on the floor,
And when, the grocer kicked him out
He piddled through the door.

Behind him all the city dogs
Lined up with instinct true,
To start a piddling carnival
And see the stranger through.

They showed him every piddling post
They had in all the town,
And started in, with many-a wink
To see the stranger down.

They sent for champion piddlers,
Who were always on the go,
Who sometimes did a piddling stunt.
Or gave a piddling show.

They sprung these on him suddenly,
When midway into town.
Spud only smiled and polished off
The ablest, white and brown.

For Spud was with them, every trick
With vigor and with vim.
A thousand piddlers, more or less,
Were all the same to him.

So he was wetting merrily
With hind legs kicking high.
When most were hoisting legs in bluff
And piddling mighty dry.

But ever on went noble Spud
As wet as any rill,
And all the champion city pups
Were peed to a standstill.

Then Spud did freehand piddling
With fancy flirt and fling,
Like double drip and gimlet twist
And all that, sort of thing.

And all the time this jet-black dot,
Did never wink or grin,
But piddled blithely out of town
As he came piddling in.

The city dogs a convention held
To ask "What did defeat us?"
But no one ever put them wise
That Spud had diabetes!

Wednesday, February 25, 2015